What is Truly Meant to Be: A Hey Arnold Musical
by LycoRogue
Summary: What happens when Arnold makes a two-day journey back to Hillwood for the greatest confession of his life? Teenage HA! love triangle story. Each chapter is losely based on a different song. Titles are the song names.
1. Life After You

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**A/N: Ah, the brainchild of insomnia and boredom at work (hooray for running a store alone for four hours!). SOOOOO sorry for those who started to read this chapter when I first posted it. I know, I promised that I would finish the chapter about two weeks ago, but life became MAJORLY drama-filled and I didn't really have much writing time. However, I do have the full novella more-or-less figured out, so, pending writing availability, chapters should be posted in moderately frequent intervals.  
OK, so...Hey Arnold! and its franchise are owned by Nickelodeon and remain the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett. I do not own any of the used characters or locations. But I hope you enjoy anyway!**

**LIFE AFTER YOU**

The warm wind blew through the truck, tossing Arnold's blond hair. His left arm rested on the door; his elbow sticking out the window. His right hand lazily gripped the top of the steering wheel; his mind racing with anticipation.

A green sign came in to view, forcing him to bolt upright in his seat. His eyes stayed fixated on the sign. "Hillwood 15 miles" raced by the right side of the beaten up, blue pick-up. Arnold's heart got lodged in his throat as he scanned the horizon for the first visible sky-scrapper that would mark the end of his journey.

Two days. The amount of money he spent on motels, food, and gas - let alone the stress of not sleeping, even when he did have a bed - it was almost worth it for Arnold to have purchased the plane ticket. At the very least he would have been able to get this over with so much sooner.

He allowed himself to close his eyes for a second and heavily exhale. Almost home. Funny how he still considered it that, even though he hadn't actually lived in Hillwood for almost four years now. Then again, he did spend the first fourteen of his life there. It all balanced out. Until he lived somewhere else for longer than fourteen years, Hillwood would be home. Besides, knowing what awaited him there would always prevent Arnold from thinking that anywhere else could be home.

Arnold glanced at the little marker along the side of the road. Twelve more miles. He could have sworn he had driven more than that. Why did the miles take longer now? When he was so close and just wanted the miles to fly like they did the first day, why were they mocking him by being so long?

He started tapping his finger against the steering wheel as his eyes darted from marker to marker; now acutely aware of each one of them. Mile 234 8/10. Mile 234 7/10. Mile 234 6/10. It was painful watching the miles tick away so slowly. He tried choking his heart down again and only managed to press harder on the gas pedal.

Finally, another mile passed. Eleven more to go. So close. He was so close. That familiar pain in his chest refused to ease up. He coughed and snorted, attempting to force as much air through his throat as he could. If only he could break up that clog his heart was creating just behind his Adam's Apple.

As he neared the end of yet another painfully slow mile, his truck abruptly jerked forward. A loud rumble and putter encased the cab as the truck jerked again. Arnold could feel the pick-up straining against the gas pedal.

"No!" Arnold firmly gripped the wheel with both hands as he started pleading with his vehicle, "No, no, no! Please. Don't do this. Come on. Little further. Just a little more. Please. Hold together for a little more. I'm almost there!"

Ignoring his pleas and prayers, the truck stubbornly started billowing out smoke. Cursing, Arnold reluctantly pulled over to the side. Once stopped, he placed his forehead on the steering wheel and softly sobbed. He was so close. If his truck had broken down yesterday or the day before it wouldn't have been so painful, but he was right there.

After roughly three minutes of sulking, Arnold inhaled deeply and released all that air in a heavy sigh. Lifting his head back up, he turned to his cell phone in the cup holder. His stupid pick-up wasn't going to stop him when he was so close. He scooped the phone out of the cup holder while his other hand pulled on the door handle. Kicking his door open, Arnold jumped out of the cab and then slammed the door shut behind him. He dialed the Sunset Arms boarding house while walking through the smoke seeping out of the hood of his vehicle.

Each ring was painful to him. He shouldered the phone and popped open the hood to let the smoke free. Maybe it just overheated. Maybe he could be on the road again in about a half hour. He walked back over to his driver's side door and leaned against the truck.

"Pick up. Come on, pick up," he prayed to the Sunset Arms residents. Someone had to be around. Anyone. "Someone, please." Finally, a wave of relief washed over Arnold as he heard a click.

"Hello?" Arnold's voice cracked as it pushed past his heart, which was apparently now keeping residence in his throat.

"Hello?" A raspy woman's voice crossed over the line. She seemed bewildered by Arnold's question.

"Grandma! Oh thank God!" Arnold pushed himself off of his truck. His salvation came in the form of his own grandmother's voice.

"Who is this?" And there it went again.

Arnold slumped back against his truck and sighed, "Grandma, it's me. Arnold."

"Oh, no. Arnold hasn't lived here for years. You must have the wrong number."

"Grandma, no-" A click and the dial tone stopped Arnold mid-sentence. Gertie's dementia had gotten worse over the years, but Phil had been with her for so long he just couldn't bare to put her in a home. Everyone agreed that it was best for her to spend the last years of her life in a familiar surrounding, but Gertie was as feisty as ever. At this rate Arnold almost expected Gertie to even outlive him.

Arnold attempted the boarding house again. As the phone rang he prayed that anyone besides his grandmother would pick up the phone. Unfortunately for Arnold, Gertie was the only one home at the time. Mr. Hyunh had recently moved out of the boarding house. His daughter Mai was pregnant and Mr. Hyunh had moved in with her and her husband. He had missed out on Mai's childhood, and they all wanted to make sure he was around for his granddaughter. Ernie Potts was out on a date with a retired roller-derby champion. According to Arnold's grandfather, the two made a very cute couple. Ernie needed a girl who was as tough as him. Susie Kokoshka had dragged her husband Oskar out to a few annex classes at the local college. She made sure to also take the classes with him in order to be certain he was taking the schooling seriously. Susie was determined to make something of her husband, even if it killed her. Phil, on the other hand, wouldn't be gone the entire night like the others. However, Arnold's timing couldn't have been worse. Phil had just left to go pick up Gertie's medication from the corner pharmacist. Arnold's only way home would be if his grandmother had one of her random lucid moments.

After trying three times, and each time having a different experience with Gertie's hallucinations, Arnold finally gave up on trying to get his grandfather to pick him up. He wouldn't have been able to make it through if he tried calling back anyway. The last time his grandmother picked up she started yelling about an evil dragon wreaking havoc in the hallway, and then her voice became more and more distant. She must have been chasing a bug or one of her cats and wandered off without hanging up the phone.

Arnold checked on his engine. The smoke was still flowing, but not in such a large cloud. He silently cursed at himself for never learning anything about cars. Aren't guys supposed to know how to fix an engine or something? Feeling helpless, he attempted Gerald's cell phone. He was sure that it wouldn't be a problem at all to get his best friend to drive out and pick him up, especially since they hadn't seen each other for almost a year.

Straight to voice mail. Right, it was Friday. Gerald usually took Phoebe out on Fridays. There goes that idea. Arnold didn't even bother leaving a message. It would be useless to wait for him. Frustrated, Arnold threw his phone through the still open truck window. What could he do now? With a deep breath, Arnold rumbled a belly-deep, animalistic scream. Birds in the nearby trees all chirped loudly in response as they flew away in terror.

Arnold started to tug at the hair on the back of his head, trying despirately to figure out how to get to Hillwood now. He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. Nope. Seems like a AAA card didn't magically appear when he needed it. Why is it that men don't think they need a membership? He knew that he didn't care how a car ran; that he'd never learn how to maintain one. So why would it have been such a big deal to get a AAA membership - especially with his piece-of-junk pick-up?

Only a ten dollar bill as well. Not enough to take a taxi through Hillwood, let alone ride one from ten miles out of town. Might as well forget about getting a tow truck while he was at it. Arnold threw his wallet through the truck window as well.

The wallet hit his cell phone as it landed on the passenger seat, and flopped back open; the photo album insert showing. Arnold rested his elbows on the truck door and cupped his head, rubbing his eyes with the heals of his hands. As he ran his fingers along his hairline he slowly re-opened his eyes. The first thing he saw again was his wallet, and his reason for coming home.

It was weird that particular picture was visible. No one even knew he had it in his wallet. He had it tucked in the middle of the album insert, and usually it couldn't fall open. The way it was designed, it didn't matter how Arnold handled his wallet, the album insert would always display the first picture unless he specifically flipped through the rest of the pictures. Yet, somehow, when his wallet fell open that particular picture ended up showing. Was it a sign to keep going? That all wasn't lost?

The optimistic determination that Arnold was renowned for returned to him. With renewed strength, he opened the truck door, grabbed his cell phone and wallet off of the passenger seat, yanked his keys out of the ignition, and turned towards the horizon.

Nothing was going to stop him. If he could quit so easily then what was he doing here? No, he needed to continue. He had to complete his mission. Nothing else in the world was as important. He didn't give up when his neighborhood was going to be demolished. He didn't give up when his parents went missing for a decade. He didn't give up when his classmates all thought he was crazy for believing in someone. No, Arnold had always kept his faith and fought for what he believed in. How could he give up now?

With an encouraging nod to himself he stared down the Hillwood skyline, just barely in view, and started off in a sprint. Talking to no one but his hidden picture, he whispered, "Just a little longer, Helga. I'm coming."

He quickly became entranced by the rhythmic sound of his feet hitting the pavement. The horizon faded from his view and her face was the only thing he could see. It was the only thing he needed. He could find his way back to her even if he was blind.

He let out an abrupt laugh at that thought. He was so mad at Helga for pretending she was blind that April Fools Day in fourth grade. The crap she put him through that day. But he had to admit after the fact that he actually had fun. Sure, it was a pain at the time, but he enjoyed taking care of her again, like he did after he hit her with the baseball. He cringed a little as he pictured the poor girl getting beaned. He shook the image away and saw instead his tango with the "blind" Helga. Sure, when they were actually dancing he was just focused on distracting Helga so he could throw her in to the pool, but after the dance he routinely replayed that moment in his head. Not even Gerald knew at the time, but Arnold couldn't get that tango out of his mind. He now smirked as he remembered how confused he once was. Why did he think such a seductive tango was the best way to distract Helga? Was it because he knew she loved him? Was it because he wanted an excuse to be so close? Funny how he couldn't see what was so blatantly obvious. Helga and him were meant for each other. No matter what.

No matter what. Arnold's smile faded as he remembered why he was running in the first place. Why was he so stupid? He wouldn't have to sprint now if he just was smart back then. Why did he do it? Why couldn't he see it? Why?

* * *

The sun was beginning to set. Purple, orange, and red hues danced across the sky, blending in to a warm blanket coating the city. The clouds were puffs of cotton candy being eaten by the sinking sun. Arnold remembered that beautiful sunset. It was bitter sweet that such a gorgeous setting could house such a painful memory.

He couldn't remember what they were talking about, he just remembered Helga's face. Her features hardened, eyes narrowed, and her eyebrows furrowed. He should have seen the explosion coming, but somehow it still nearly knocked him off of the park bench.

"Stop it!" Helga jumped up abruptly, her fists clenched tightly beside her hips.

"Helga?" Arnold braced himself against the bench. He knew she wouldn't hit him, but that didn't seem to keep his heart from racing.

"Just shut up, Football Head!" She turned her back to him. She crossed her arms in front of her as if calling someone safe at base, "I'm done. I'm not listening to this anymore."

"Helga, what's wrong?" He stood up to place a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and whipped around to stare intensely into his eyes.

"What's wrong? Listen to you! Can't you love me for me?" She started pounding on her chest and breathing heavily.

"Helga, I do love you for you. I don't understand why you're upset." Arnold tried to grab for her hands, but she kept pulling them away as she backed up.

"Do you, Arnold? Do you really? Because all I hear is you trying to change me." Arnold stopped grabbing for her. "Lately all I get is 'You shouldn't be so mean, Helga' or 'You really should give your mom more credit' or 'Maybe you should try bonding with Olga' or 'Do you have to act so tough?' And I'm sick of it!"

"Helga-"

"No! Stop. Stop trying to change me. To better me. Crimeny, so you truly love me, Arnold? Or do you only love an idolized me?"

The wind quickly escaped Arnold in a surprised sigh. How could she accuse him of such a thing? Didn't he kiss her? Didn't he ask her out? Didn't he just spend the past three years dating her even when she was rough around the edges? Sure, he may want her to be the best person she could be, but shouldn't she want the same thing?

"Admit it, Arnoldo," Helga poked him in the chest, "you just want a little miss perfect on your arm. You can't handle me as myself."

Arnold snorted as he shook his head no. He closed his eyes. Why was she attacking him? He thought they were happy. At least, he was happy. Was that enough? He slowly opened his eyes again and looked, really looked at Helga. No. She was definitely not happy. She had valid points. Arnold couldn't deny that.

He took her hand off of his chest and gently held it, looking back at her with sorrow. This time she didn't try pulling her hand away. His look seemed to calm her somehow.

"You're right," he finally said.

It was Helga's turn to lose her breath. All the fire left her in that heavy exhale and she crumbled a little. She shrank a good inch as she slumped.

"I am trying to change you too much, Helga. And I'm sorry."

She gave him a soft smile and pulled him close. She inhaled his sweet scent as she squeezed him tight. "It's alright, Football Head. Just don't do it anymore, got it?"

Arnold pulled her off of him and kept her at arm's length. Concern flooded her face as he refused to look at her.

"Arnold?"

"You deserve someone who loves you for who you are now. And you're right, I am just trying to mold you in to someone you're not. It's not right."

"Arnold?" Helga choked a little, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

"Helga, I'm just being selfish here."

"Be selfish, Football Head. You deserve to be," Fire shot back in to Helga's voice.

"Helga, you deserve to be happy."

"Doi! I am happy. I'm with you. What more can I want?" What was going on? Helga's world started to spin.

"You have so much love and passion, and you deserve someone who loves you as much as you love them."

"Arnold, don't," panic covered her words.

"I can't do this to you anymore, Helga."

"Arnold, please." She tried so hard to keep her composure, but the gasps between each word betrayed her.

"It's not right that I only see you for your potential." It pained him to see her crumble in his arms like this, but it truly wasn't right for him to keep her. She really did deserve someone better than him. She deserved a prince to sweep her off her feet. He was only putting her down all the time. Helga didn't deserve this at all, and she was right to point it out to him.

"Arnold, don't do this."

"You will find someone better, Helga." He brushed the tear that fell from her eye and nearly collapsed himself as he thought of how much he was breaking her heart. Be strong. It needed to be done.

"There is no one better than you," she looked in to those emerald-green eyes and deep down knew she would do so for the last time.

"We were wrong, Helga. We're just not as good of a match as we thought. You will find someone as passionate as you, and I wish you the best. We're just wasting time holding on to this."

"Crimeny, we're only thirteen, Football Head. We can waste time. We have plenty of it. Just, don't do this. I can still change. I can be that girl you want. I promise I can. I'll try harder." Helga had started clawing at his sleeves, trying to hold on to any part of him she could.

"You shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to change for anyone. You're amazing as you are and you deserve someone who truly sees that better than I do."

"Arnold. Arnold, please don't do this. Stop, please stop."

"I'm so sorry, Helga. I have to let you go. It's selfish of me to keep you."

Helga couldn't find words anymore. She just shook her head. She said the word "please" a few more times, but her voice didn't work. Only the silent rush of air with each lip movement confessed her muted pleas.

"You'll find someone to love you better than I ever could, and you deserve that." Arnold helped lower Helga as she gently collapsed to her knees.

"Don't go." Her voice just barely whispered into his ear as her legs touched the grass.

"Know that I'll always hold you in my heart," Arnold kissed her on the forehead and stood up. She grabbed out for him, but didn't have the strength to hold on or get back up. He didn't want to leave her like this, but he couldn't hold on to her either. It just wasn't right. He knew she deserved someone who truly saw her.

Arnold turned his back to her and walked away, forcing himself to take each new step. He couldn't go back to comfort her. He wanted to kiss those tears away, but he couldn't. This was best for her, he knew it was.

He painfully ignored her sobs behind him. He tried to block out the image of her clawing at her shoulders as she hugged herself; her elbows digging deep in to the grass as her head buried inside her arms.

Behind him he heard her voice one last time, an anguished bellow of his name.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he called Phoebe's cell phone. Arnold quickly apologized to her and informed her where she can find Helga. He then quickly hung up and wiped away his own tears as he exited the park.

* * *

Arnold stumbled and nearly lost his balance. He stopped his sprint as he stood for a moment. He was so stupid then. How could he even think he was doing them any good by breaking up with Helga? He wiped the water out of his eyes so he could again see the road. The full landscape of Hillwood stretched out before him. He was still a few miles out of town, but each building was fully in view.

He attempted to run again, but he was still worked up from his flashback and couldn't catch his breath. He pressed on, pushing himself to throw one leg out in front of the other, but all of his panting quickly got the better of him.

"Damn!" Arnold gasped in pain as his side suddenly ached. Stopped a second time, he cursed the sky and wondered why this had to be so hard. Why was everything stacked against him? He refused to not move forward, and so he hobbled his way down the road.

Placing a hand on his back pocket, Arnold slid his fingers in and fished out his wallet. He stared at the closed bi-fold for a moment before quickly flipping it open and thumbing to his hidden picture of Helga.

She was celebrating her Sweet Sixteen. Even after the split, they attempted to remain friends. It was difficult to just be pen pals, but their lives quickly got chaotic and it was hard to find a good time for both of them to be on the phone. They did manage to hang out whenever Arnold visited Hillwood. Him and his parents journeyed down roughly six times a year. Once for each of his grandparent's birthdays, once for Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and his parents were even willing to make the long trip for Arnold to spend Gerald's birthday with him.

Thankfully, Easter came early two years ago, and Helga's birthday was just one week before. Miles and Stella didn't mind the week-long vacation, plus the college Miles taught at was on break for Easter anyway. It was a little awkward, but Arnold was glad he managed to make Helga's sixteenth birthday party.

He remembered thinking she was gorgeous. The older Helga became, the more masculine she dressed. Her attire now routinely consisted of jeans, a guy tee, and a hat covering her trademark hair bow. However, she was willing to dress up for important events, and her family actually remembering her long enough to throw a Sweet Sixteen party was definitely one of those important events.

She wore a red tea-length dress. It was form fitting without being clingy. White short sleeves detached from the thick straps, leaving her shoulders bare. A pink sash, in a reminiscent shade of her elementary age dress, was tied around her waist with long tails draping down towards her knees. Her hair was half up; the top of her locks were pulled back in tiny pigtails. Each pigtail was secured with a tiny pink hair bow. Even at age sixteen, she still could not give up the element Arnold first complemented her on. Arnold had to smile when he noticed that.

She tore through her house, actually appearing to enjoy herself as she worked the crowd that showed up to celebrate. Arnold wasn't sure if it was regardless or because of the few times he saw Helga a year, but he barely had a moment with her. He didn't really mind though, he enjoyed watching her. She probably didn't even know he took the picture, let alone that it was stashed in his wallet. She was casually leaning against her staircase, probably talking to Phoebe, and had the brightest smile as she laughed. Arnold stared at the picture and imagined that smile was for him.

Arnold wanted to see that smile again so badly. Re-energized, he placed the wallet back in his pocket and started running again. He breathed through his side ache as if he was in Lamaze training and kept his mind focused on what he was going to say to Helga when he finally reached her. How much he wanted to hold her again. The smell of her shampoo lingering in her hair.

It didn't keep him long to finally pass the threshold of the city; he slowed to a walk as he neared the first building off the highway. Placing a hand on the stone front of the building he instantly felt like he was officially home. He was inside Hillwood, and it wouldn't be much longer until he was at Helga's Brownstone. He let out a deep sigh and placed his forehead against the rock, "I'm almost there. Finally."

His breathing back to normal and the pain in his side receaded, Arnold smiled as he started jogging again. He was in his last stretch and his legs no longer felt weighted down. Instead, he barely noticed the cement under his feet. He raced through the streets, absentmindedly watching for cars. His body felt filled with helium as he floated across the sidewalk. The street signs and buildings passed by in a blur. He could almost feel her soft skin against his arm.

The old neighborhood. So close. He debated stopping by the boarding house to see if there was finally someone around who could take care of his truck. He couldn't stop now though. His truck could wait, Helga waited long enough.

Slausen's Ice Cream parlor. Arnold started to ache in anticipation. He was just a few more blocks away. That's it; just a few blocks. No longer miles away from her. His heart reawakened in his throat, reminding him that it never quite gave up residence there. It was hard for Arnold to inhale, and his exhales were in quivering sighs.

Finally, after such a long and trying journey, the blue-painted brownstone came in to view. It was still about a block away as Arnold sprinted past the Sub King sandwich shop. The smell of the fresh baked bread reminded him that he last ate about eight hours ago, but there was no time to stop and have food now. He ignored his stomach's pleaded growling and pushed forward.

The rowhouse grew to tower over Arnold as he crossed the last street. With a widening grin, he vaulted over the bottom banister of Helga's front steps, landing on the second step. Skipping steps as he climbed the remaining stairs, Arnold finally collapsed at Helga's front door. Slumped against the green painted wood, Arnold delicately placed a hand on the handle. He could almost feel her inside the house. He closed his eyes and just concentrated on his breathing. After all of the running he did, Arnold struggled to catch his breath. His lungs were burning and his legs shook as they struggled to keep him standing. As much as he would love to be cradled by Helga, he figured fainting into her arms would not make the best impression after such a long time apart.

After steadying himself, he slowly ran his fingers from the handle up the door frame. Once his hand was about even with his nose he pushed himself upright. His hand lingered on the door and he stared at it, cursing at it for not knocking. He was right on her doorstep, why couldn't he make his hand knock on the door?

With a deep, soothing exhale, Arnold finally convinced his hand to slowly ball in to a fist. One more deep breath. Abruptly, his arm whipped back and he finally managed to rap his knuckles against the door. No backing out now. With more deep breaths Arnold stepped back and tried to contain his heart inside his chest. He stared at the door, imagining Helga slowly opening it. Her hair blowing gracefully in the light breeze, her arms opening wide to welcome him in.

No one answered.

Shocked that he was left standing outside for so long, Arnold knocked again; a little louder this time. A warm wave rushed over him as his nerves started to show. It was hard to breathe again and his clothes felt heavy all of a sudden.

Still nothing.

Arnold backed up further from the door and glanced up at the house. Did he not notice that everyone was out? Why not, that was exactly how his day was going. His eyes landed on the right window on the second floor. Helga's room. It still had the purple curtains from her sixteenth birthday. The light was also on. A shadow moved and then he saw her. Helga walked to her window and quickly turned, leaning her back against it. Her hair was up in a ponytail today. Her pink t-shirt fell slightly off her shoulders. She looked amazing.

Arnold tried to call out to her, but his voice cracked, still horse from all of the exercise he endured. He couldn't seem to get enough volume to reach her window. She was home, though. She just had to hear his knocking. He tried one last time, as loudly as he could. A long, continuous knock. "Come on Helga," he begged, "hear me."

Finally the door violently swung open. "What?" Helga angrily questioned the unwelcome visitor. Her eyes immediately softened and her mouth gaped once she saw who was on her stoop. She let out a breathy sigh, "Arnold." Her full posture weakened, shocked to see her first love standing in front of her. "Wh-what are you?" she caught how soft her voice got. With a quick head shake to clear her mind her hard exterior returned, just like when they were kids. She stood erect again, but was still shorter than Arnold. Her face got hard as she frowned at him, "I mean, what are you doing here, Football Head? No birthdays in the summer."

Arnold couldn't help but smile at her. He knew by now that the harder she was on him the happier she was to see him. It was a good sign. Still not able to find his voice, he did the only thing he could think of, he stepped forward and gathered her in to his arms.

Helga's eyes bolted wide open as she was pressed against Arnold's clammy chest, his warm arms wrapped around her. She let herself stay there for a moment as she breathed him in, remembering what he smelled like. Although, he did seem a bit muskier than she remembered.

She turned her head so she could get closer to him and hug him back. She started to raise her arms to wrap around her lost love, but then she opened her eyes and saw the stairs leading to the second floor. Helga's breath got caught in her throat as reality came rushing back to her. Instead of holding Arnold, she used her arms to push away from him.

"Who said you could touch me?" she angrily demanded. She took another quick glance up the stairs and tried to choke down the knot that started to form.

"I'm sorry, Helga," Arnold smiled at her, staring with half-lidded eyes.

"So what are you doing here?" she interrogated.

"It's a long story, but it ends with me wanting to tell you that I still love you."

Helga stumbled backwards and just barely caught herself on an end table her family kept in the hall. All of these years. Why now? Why did he realize he still loved her now? Why couldn't he have figured this out sooner?

Arnold rushed to her side to try to steady her, but Helga again pushed away from him. "Arnold," she didn't quite know what to say.

"I know I was real stupid," Arnold moved towards her again, slowly. His legs still buckled underneath him.

"Arnold, don't-" Helga kept tossing her eyes back and forth between odd-headed boy in front of her and the steps leading up to her bedroom. How was she going to explain this?

"Helga, I'm sorry it kept me so long to figure it out, and I'm hoping that you could give me another chance."

"Arnold, please don't," as much as she tried to hide it, her voice started to shake as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Helga, please, I drove two days straight, had my truck break down, and had to run ten miles to say this-"

"What?" Helga couldn't believe what she was hearing. Arnold had done all of that? To talk to her? He had always been a romantic, but did she deserve all of this from him?

"It's hard for me to talk, so please let me get all of this out," Arnold took Helga's hand. She yet again glanced up the stairs and nervously nodded.

"Make it quick," she reluctantly conceded, her heart racing.

"I was foolish to think that I was actually doing either of us any good by breaking up with you and staying away," Arnold started the speech he had spent the better part of the past hour preparing. "I should have never tried to change you. I should have never doubted the woman you'd become or how amazing you were and will always be. I should have never doubted that our love could survive the long distance. I just didn't have enough faith in anything, and I'm so sorry."

Helga pulled her hand away from Arnold's and turned him around to again face her front door. Behind his back she again glanced up to her bedroom, "Apology accepted. Thanks for stopping by, Arnoldo."

With a faint laugh Arnold stepped out of her way and spun back around. Gently grabbing her shoulders, Arnold turned her towards him, "Helga, I'm not done."

"Arnold," she needed to get him out of her house, but she had to admit that she was melting with every word Arnold said to her.

"Helga, I'm not me without you. When I said goodbye to you a part of me died, and it kept me almost four years to realize it. I need your spunk and defiance. I need the challenge you bring; the excitement each day. I really don't care anymore if what we had was right or if we were wrong to be together. There is no one else that I'm nearly as happy with. I've tried. I hung out with other girls, I even agreed to go out on dates, but I was empty each time. There wasn't that spark that I had when I went out with you. Even when you and I were just hanging out as friends, I had a better time than I ever did with any other girl. I've been so alone, so empty without you in my life. I tried to deny it over all of these years, but I could never keep you out of my head."

"Arnoldo, your timing is impeccable," Helga muttered, shaking her head. Why, dear lord, does he realize all of this now?

"I know," Arnold brushed his fingers across the side of Helga's face. She turned her head, pulling away. "I was completely blind. For someone to have twenty-twenty vision and not see everything he needs standing right in front of him; my only excuse was temporary blindness. And stupidity. And youthful ignorance. I truly thought I was doing what was best for you, but now I want to be what's best for you. I want to spend the rest of my life hearing you laugh and seeing you smile."

"Arnold, I can't, I just can't." Helga pulled away fully, leaning against the stair banister. It was a similar pose as Arnold's picture of her, but almost the antitheses of it. She was broken and sorrowful now. She didn't have that laugh and light she had that day.

"Helga, with everything we've been through together, we're the only ones who truly understand each other. No one could ever get me like you do. No one else was there for me when my parents couldn't be. There is no one else for me. I couldn't possibly live without you. I could go through the motions for the rest of my life, but you would be the only way I would have light in me. You are my light."

"Arnold," Helga placed a hand over her mouth and fought to keep her tears inside. How could she break his heart? She knew how much it hurt. She just couldn't do it to him. She already felt the familiar pain in her chest as she looked at this broken man, still shaking a little. Was it because of his confession or was he still weak from the run? Ten miles, damn.

"Please, just one more chance," Arnold looked longingly at her.

Closing her eyes, Helga motioned towards the door, "I'm sorry, Arnold, but you need to leave."

"Helga, please. Just think about it."

"You need to go."

"Helga, just give it a minute to sink in."

"Arnold! We can't do this. Not now." She heard a shuffling upstairs. Things were going to get ugly soon if she couldn't get Arnold out of her house.

"Fine," Arnold caved and started for the door, "can you at least give me a ride to the boarding house? My legs are still rubber."

"I'm sorry," she shook her head no.

With a huff and a clench of his teeth, Arnold calmly asked, "Then how about a glass of water?"

She couldn't be so cruel as to not help him recoup from his marathon, so she reluctantly nodded and motioned for him to go sit in the living room. As he moved past her, Helga again looked upstairs. "I'm so sorry," she softly whispered, "I'll be right back, I promise."

As Arnold sat down in Bob's recliner, Helga went to get him water from the kitchen. She had no choice now, she had to tell him. It was going to be awkward and uncomfortable and painful, but Arnold deserved to know the truth. How was she going to tell him.

The water sloshing around in the glass as she took it to Arnold betrayed her nerves. She let him take a few sips and relax in her father's chair. "Are-" Deep breath. "Are you comfortable, Arnold?"

He smiled his response to her. "Arnold, it's a good thing you're sitting. Because I really need to tell you something too."

Smiling back, Arnold asked, "what is it, my dear?"

"Oh, I really wish you didn't say that last part. The thing is, Arnold. I- Well the thing is that- What I mean is- Damn it, girl, just tell him!"

Arnold looked up at her confused. What was so hard for Helga to tell him? He just confessed that he still loved her, so what could be a bigger grenade than that?

"Well, Arnold," she tried again, "back around my Sweet Sixteen. My head was- no, that's not right. I was feeling- no, not that either." Helga started stamping around the room, cursing.

As Arnold was about to ask her if she was alright he was interrupted by a deep voice coming from the second floor, "Helga? Are you okay down there?"

The voice stopped Helga cold. With a shocked look on her face, she darted her eyes between Arnold's equally surprised face and the hallway behind her. Calming herself slightly, she called back up in a sweet tone, "I'm alright. I'll be there shortly."

Helga slowly turned back to face Arnold. "Helga," he cocked an eyebrow at her, "who was that? What's going on?"

"Oh," she nervously giggled, "nothing. No one. Don't worry about it, Football Head." She giggled again and gave a false smile.

"Helga?"

"Well," she drew out the word with a squeak in her voice.

"Helga."

She started tapping her index fingers together as she looked away, biting her lower lip.

"Helga!"

"Well, the thing is, Arnold, I-" Why couldn't she just say it?

"You?"

The deep voice started descending the stairs, "Helga, is something going on down there?"

Shit. Now or never, "I sort of, kind of, the thing is-"

She could hear the footsteps that belonged to the man with the deep voice coming down the hall, and Arnold's face started to twist with anger for being dragged along like this. Just spit it out, Helga!

With eyes clenched closed she just blurted it out, "I already have a boyfriend!"

First opening one eye, and then slowly opening the other, Helga looked at Arnold's reaction. Shock. His mouth and eyes were equally open wide as he slumped in the chair. He looked as if he was told he only had twenty-four more hours to live. In fact, that was about how Arnold felt too.

Coming back to his senses, he sheepishly asked her, "Who?"

"Well-" she never needed to answer the question. Instead, a man walked in to the living room and wrapped an arm around Helga's waist, seemingly unaware of Arnold's presence.

Arnold's shock doubled as he realized he knew exactly who Helga's boyfriend was, "Br-Brainy?"

****A/N: OK, so what does everyone think of the pacing? Personally I feel it goes RIDICULOUSLY slow, but I really wanted Arnold's tension to come across, so I dunno. Thoughts? Anyway, the full novella will all be "song story" chapters. I'm hoping the parent songs won't be painfully obvious... *shrug* This particular part is based on Daughtry's "Life After You" (hence the title).  
So what does everyone think of the love triangle I have? Gotta get some HelgaxBrainy love going on for those shippers, but do not fear HelgaxArnold fans!****  
So, yeah, ConCrit please - it's the only way I'll become a better author for you! ^_^ Lots of love!****


	2. Goodbye To You

A soft knock echoed through Helga's quiet room. It was somehow different from all the other times someone knocked on her bedroom door. Usually, the knocks are loud and forceful, but this one was gentle and barely audible. Regardless, Helga didn't want a visitor. She never did. In fact, she had locked herself up in her sanctuary for over a month now; blissfully living like a hermit.

It wasn't until Phoebe's soft voice crept through the door did Helga pay the knocking any heed. As her friend begged to be let in, Helga still stared at the door. With a heavy sigh, Helga finally motioned to get off of her bed. Her legs were heavy as she swung them over the edge of her mattress, and only the momentum from her feet dropping to the floor managed to crane her upright.

When she opened the door, the little Asian-American girl who had been friends with Helga for the past decade presented a box of chewy grocery store cookies. "I thought you might need a little pick-me-up," the girl softly commented, smiling wide.

"What? Ran out of carrots and celery at the store?" Helga lazily turned away and walked back in to her room, leaving the door open.

"Helga," Phoebe comforted, "although it is true that health food is the most beneficial snack, and the vitamins provided by vegetables could indeed provide you with a better source of energy-" Phoebe paused as she cautiously stepped inside Helga's doorframe, again presenting the now opened box of cookies, "however, I felt that this situation called for a more traditional, guilt and sugar-filled, junk food treat."

"Yeah, well, thanks," Helga responded in a semi-sarcastic monotone, "close the door behind ya, will ya?"

Phoebe grinned wider as she was finally admitted in to Helga's make-shift monastery, "closing." After shutting the door, Phoebe joined Helga on her bed, placing the box of cookies between them.

"So, whaja doing here, Pheebs?" Helga ignored the box pressed against her thigh.

"I'm worried about you, Helga," Phoebe also ignored her gift, instead staring intently at her friend.

"Pfft, what do you have to be worried about?" Helga avoided the eye contact and instead reached in for a cookie. She studied the soft surface of the treat and mentally counted the visible chocolate chips, slowly breaking little pieces off and eating them.

"Helga, you've kept yourself cooped up in your room for over a month. The only time I see you is at school. Plus, there's that whole thing with Arnold."

At the sound of his name Helga flinched, crumbling the remains of the cookie. Always quick on her feet, Helga leaned back and emptied the crumbs in to her mouth as if she intentionally crushed her treat. After she was done chewing she remained leaning back on her elbows and stared at the ceiling, "Don't worry about me, Pheebs. I'm not that blubbering wus you found curled up behind a park bench. Not anymore. Old Helga's back." She pivoted her head and grinned at Phoebe. Her friend's only response was to adjust her glasses.

"Helga, that's what I'm worried about."

Helga flung herself upright and turned to face Phoebe, "What? Afraid of the old me? Geez, Phoebe, I thought I always treated you right – well, mostly right at least."

"Oh, no, Helga. I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid for you. You didn't just revert back to being a bully, you've gotten worse."

"Pfft, yeah. Sure, Pheebs." Helga laid back down on her bed, her hand groping for a second cookie.

"I'm serious, Helga, before you were mostly harmless. Silly elementary pranks and teasing, that was it. The only one you really ever hurt was Brainy. However, you're now angry and bitter, and really mean. This isn't you at all."

Helga twisted her body so her back was turned to her visitor, "Still have no clue what you mean, Phoebe. I just think you're over reacting since I stopped being a bully for three years."

"Come on, Helga. Before you would just push people out of your way, but now you actually shove them in to the lockers, even if they weren't in your way in the first place. You trip people, and threaten them almost daily. Brainy's no longer the only person you hit, or even the only thing you hit. In fact, you dented one of the lockers. You've been called to the principal's office four times."

"Yeah, I'm angry, alright? Why do you think I'm not dealing with people now? I'm doing society a favor by locking myself away. What's it to ya?"

"Helga, I'm concerned. I'm your best friend; I'm supposed to be concerned. I'm also here to help." Phoebe reached out to place a hand on her friend's shoulder, but Helga shrugged it away.

"I'll be fine. Thanks."

"Is there any way I can help you finish grieving Arnold?"

"Grieving Arnold?" Helga turned back to face Phoebe, "What on Earth to you mean?"

"Well, it is part of the natural relationship ending process to grieve the loss of the partnership as you would a death of a loved one. You have surpassed the 'denial' stage the day you broke up, but you seem to be stuck in the 'anger' stage, and you aren't controlling it very well, either."

Helga reached for another cookie. Rotating on to her back, she raised the treat above her head and stared at it. "If this is about me getting over Arnold, isn't it normally over a pint of ice cream or something?"

Phoebe softly smiled, "Well, I figured that bringing you some Ben and Jerry's would not be the most productive thing when you're trying to forget about 'ice cream'."

"Why would I-" Helga cut her question short. She had completely forgotten about the code name she gave Arnold back when she was nine. She was foolish to think that Phoebe wouldn't figure it out, but there it was. Her obsession with "ice cream". She couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that Phoebe even remembered that. "I wonder if Madame Blanche still has those out-of-love potions." The two girls chuckled and Helga sat back up again, propping herself with her pillow. "Although I'm not too sure I want to spend another ten bucks for some grape pop."

The girls sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Helga looked up from her lap, "Thanks, Pheebs. I can always count on you to set me right. Honestly, I'm not too sure who to talk to anymore. Bob, Miriam and Olga still aren't much help. And now that we're in middle school I'm no longer eligible to visit Dr. Bliss, and lord knows Bob isn't going to actually pay for a psychologist. He still thinks Patakis should just sweep things under the rug instead of talking about them. Even after everything Bliss did to help me; just like that I have to stop going to see her. And now I need her more than ever. Stupid, friggen Arnold."

"I know, Helga. And I'll always be here to help. I may not have the knowledge to professionally treat you, but I can lend an ear and read up on tactics to help. Whatever it is you need."

Helga reached across her bed and gave her dear friend a long hug, "You're right, Phoebe, I can always count on you. Thank you."

Phoebe held her friend close, "It's alright, Helga. I'm not going anywhere."

Helga pulled away and looked down at her feet, "That's what I thought about Arnold."

"Oh, Helga-"

"I thought we were really real. That we were it. I finally had him and I thought that I was about to live my 'Happily ever after'. How stupid was I?" Water gathered along the edge of her eyelids, but she refused to let them spill out.

"Helga, you weren't stupid at all. You had faith. You had hope."

"And now I have nothing. I don't even know what happened. What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, Helga. You both are young, maybe it was just too intense for Arnold to handle."

"No. I did this. I shouldn't have harassed him. We were having a good time, and he was just trying to help me, and I blew up at him. And the worst part is how noble he was about it. He told me he was dumping me because it was best for me, that he was happy but he felt I could be happier with someone else. I don't even know where he got that from. How can I hate him, Pheebs, when he was just trying to do what was best?"

"You don't hate him. That's how. You forgive him for taking matters in to his own hands instead of letting you make that decision. You don't steal his clothes out of the gym locker room and run his underwear up the flagpole."

Helga smiled a little, "That was pretty funny though. You have to admit it." Phoebe gently smiled back and hid a laugh. "But you're right, Pheebs. I'm just all messed up inside. I don't know what to do, but I spend all day playing the 'What If' game: what if I hadn't yelled at him, what if I took his advice and became more social, what if I could actually say something that day, what if I tried harder to change his mind. I drive myself crazy with all of these scenarios! No matter what I just can't change what happened, but this limbo is just as painful. On the one hand, all I want is for Arnold to realize that he's not making me any happier by us being apart; that he'll realize his mistake and take me back. But on the other hand I realize that he probably isn't ever going to take me back. I mean, with the way I've been taking my anger out on him, why would he? I've lost him forever and it just hurts too much to wait around for something that isn't going to happen."

Phoebe took one of Helga's hands and squeezed gently. When Helga looked up at her friend, Phoebe gave her the calming, comforting face that she wished Miriam would give her every once in a while. "You don't know that he'll never take you back, Helga. Especially if you realize your own mistake and stop bullying him."

"Thanks, but it's over. I mean, it's been thirty-four days and two-hours. I'm not thinking he's going to magically change his mind now. It's hopeless, and I know it is, but I still can't get over him or the pain. It's eating me up inside. I'm so done. I can't take any more." As if empowered by her own words, Helga pushed herself off the bed and walked towards her closet. "I guess my only option is to just cave in and give up on Arnold."

"Helga!" Phoebe pushed herself off the bed as well and sprinted to her friend. Did she have to go to such extreme measures? "You don't know that your chances with Arnold are hopeless. Why, I'm sure that if you started treating him nicely again-"

"It's not happening, Pheebs."

"Helga-"

"There's no point in denying it or delaying the inevitable. I'll have to get over him at some point in order to get on with my life. I'd rather get it over with now then to draw this out." Helga knelt down to the floor next to her closet door.

Phoebe knelt down in front of Helga and grabbed her shoulders, trying to catch some eye contact. "You can't give up hope now. This is true love. It's meant to be, I can feel it. I always thought so. If-if you and Arnold can't work out, then-"

Phoebe turned her head away. It was like watching her parents split up. Helga and Arnold were her fairytale love she always wanted for herself. Her own fantasy world was crumbling with Helga's faith. With a sigh, Helga grabbed Phoebe's hands off of her shoulders and held them.

"Pheebs, just because Arnold and I aren't meant to be doesn't mean you and Gerald won't work out. It's not like that. You two-" Helga hunted for the right words, "It's different with you two. The dynamic is different and I believe you guys will last. I just wish Arnold and I could have that fairytale ending ourselves."

Helga was envious of Phoebe's relationship? But, Helga and Arnold were the perfect couple. Why would Helga ever be envious of them? Phoebe started to cry. She immediately felt guilty that she was crying when her friend, who had every right to be broken, hadn't shed a tear since that day. Pulling a hand away from Helga, Phoebe quickly wiped her tears away.

With the newly freed hand, Helga reached in to a tiny hole in her floor and lifted a loose floorboard. Tucked neatly away in her floor was her complete anthology of Arnold-inspired poetry books: volumes one through twenty-eight. After staring for a moment, Helga grabbed one of the books and flipped it open to a random page.

"Orzo-shaped Prometheus, wandering the dismal deserts of my tormented soul," Helga started reading, "Pfft, yeah. Tormented soul is right on the money."

"You compared Arnold's unique head shape to a type of pasta? That's very clever, Helga," Phoebe praised, attempting to again dissuade her from giving up on the lost love.

"You want clever? How about this little nugget," Helga sarcastically responded as she flipped through another book. "Cowlicks, like fields of yellow corn. All the days of my week I write the name I dare not speak. The boy with the cornflower hair: my beloved and my despair. "

"Oh, Helga! I remember that one! It would have won the Emily Dickenson trophy-" Phoebe grew meek, "That is, if I hadn't cheated."

"Yeah, yeah. We're past that Pheebs. But 'cornflower hair'? Really? Too bad cornflower is blue." Helga rolled her eyes as she tossed the book aside.

"Well, you were young; you probably didn't realize the color. You just liked the sound of the word in your imagery."

"Oh, Lord, here's one that haunted me." Helga didn't even bother reading as she tossed the book to the side.

Phoebe grabbed the book as it slid across the floor by her and she flipped to the page. "Oh, Helga. I remember this one. It was so sweet. 'Arnold, my love, my sultry pre-teen. Why must I hold you only whilst I dream? Will I be forever enslaved by your spell? Why must I worship you and never-ever tell? Arnold, you make my girlhood tremble, my senses all go wacky. Someday I'll tell the world, my love, or my name is not Helga G. Pataki.'"

"Yeah, sweet," Helga ripped the book out of her friend's hands and tossed it again, ricocheting it against the wall. "Don't forget tormenting because that stupid parrot nearly spilled the beans to Arnold when it memorized it!"

Phoebe reached in to the floorboards and pulled out another book from later in the collection. She quickly thumbed through the pages, trying to find a poem that could remind Helga on her true feelings. It was evident that this particular book was from when the two started dating. There had to be something here. Finally, Phoebe found something.

"How about this one, Helga?" Phoebe started reading, "Oh, sweet Arnold, your face is a beautiful ocarina I wish to press my lips to and play the endless music of love. And as I drown in your emerald eyes I can count every eyelash, each one as soft as a flower petal."

"Blach! Phoebe, really? You actually liked that one?"

"Ok, how about 'Happiness joins in my dance and we stare in to each other's eyes as we turn in small circles. Our audience stares; yearning for a chance to dance with happiness, but for now, happiness is mine.' I really enjoy that one, Helga." Phoebe smiled at her friend who only glared back with a tilted head.

"It's all rubbish, Pheebs!" Helga stood and kicked the poetry book at her foot, landing it on her bed across the room. "All of it! It's so stale, and cliché, and-" Helga crossed her arms and turned away from her friend, snorting.

"Helga?" Phoebe pushed herself off of the floor and placed a hand on Helga's arm.

Helga pulled away and turned her back. The tears were forming again and she didn't want Phoebe to see them. "I'm tired of keeping Arnold on a pedestal. All those poems- They idealize everything and I'm so sick of it. I'm done, Pheebs. I'm really done."

Helga stormed out of her room and slammed the door behind her. Phoebe moved to chase after her, but thought that maybe Helga needed a moment. Instead, Phoebe started gathering up the books of poetry and placed them back in to their hiding spot.

As Phoebe picked up the floor board to again hide the Arnold-themed anthology, Helga's door flew back open again. Startled, Phoebe jumped back and stared at the blonde girl holding a fist full of trash bags.

"H-Helga? What is going on?" Phoebe adjusted her glasses and tried to get her heart beat to slow back down.

"It's all going, Phoebe. I'm done. I have to get over him." With a slam of her bedroom door, Helga knelt back down by her hideaway and started tossing her poetry books inside one of the bags.

"I think you might be overly emotional and acting both irrationally and impulsively right now. You really should just take a moment. Shall we go for a walk and get some fresh air?"

"Don't you get it, Phoebe?" Helga quickly flipped to a poem in the book she was currently holding and read aloud, "My darling anguish, my joyous woe. How I wish I could enter the dark passages of your mind and find that lost, lonely thought where you call out my name. I yearn to walk hand in hand with that secret desire for me and bring that wish to the light."

"Oh, Helga. That was beautiful. Why would you want to get rid of such writing?"

Helga shoved the book in to the trash bag, "Because it's junk! It's all trash! All of it! Don't you understand? With all of this stuff around, with all of these reminders of him, I feel like I'm nine again. I'm back to having the bullying-hidden, unrequited love for him. Being tortured and tormented by this passion, but too afraid to let it go. I'm back to the beginning! I'm back to where I was three years ago. It's like nothing ever happened. It was all a beautiful dream and now I woke up. The past three years were-" Helga shoved the last book in to the bag and dropped her head, fighting back the tears, "-pretend. A sweet fantasy."

"Oh, Helga." Phoebe hugged her friend tight, resting Helga's head on her shoulder.

"I don't have it in me to do this again, Pheebs. I'm not strong enough anymore. I don't think I can survive it this time."

Phoebe pulled away from Helga so she could look in to her friend's damp, blue eyes. She straightened herself and nodded with determination. "Alright, Helga, I'll help. What else reminds you of Arnold?"

Helga softly smiled back and wiped away her tears. Taking a deep breath she quickly went to work, pointing out all of the items in her room that needed to go. The girls then began filling the trash bags with all of the Arnold paraphernalia. Helga pointed out books, drawings, components of her shrines to Arnold, pictures of him, cards and letters he wrote to her, and stuffed animals, silk flowers, and costume jewelry Arnold gave her while they were dating. They completed their task by carrying the three filled trash bags down to the Pataki garbage cans. When they returned to Helga's room it seemed bare.

"Wow, I never realized how much I surrounded myself with him," Helga glanced around her room with sincere shock.

"Do you have closure now that he is out of your room?"

Helga slowly scanned her room again, trying to find the answer to Phoebe's question. Instead, Helga realized that all those bare spots would just remind her of what used to be there. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get rid of him. Her chest started heaving as she struggled to choke down the tears that attempted to escape yet again.

"Helga?" The tormented blonde couldn't hold back as a thin stream of tears streaked down her cheek. Phoebe hugged Helga yet again, "It takes time to grieve a relationship. It is especially true for one you dedicated a decade of your life to."

"I shouldn't have snapped at him, Pheebs."

"You couldn't have stopped this, Helga. You need to stop trying to figure out how you could have kept the relationship alive."

"If I didn't snap at him he wouldn't have broken up with me."

"You don't know that's true."

"He seemed happy. I thought he was happy. He sure seemed happy. But I made him feel guilty about trying to better me. Why did I do that, Phoebe? I know how he is with guilt. He's so noble; he'll try to do anything to make it right. He only thought he was making things right. If I didn't make him feel guilty, maybe-"

"Helga, don't do this. Just let it go."

"I had him, Phoebe. I had the love of my life. My sweetest dream. My everything. I tried so hard to get him and I had him. And I just let him walk away. I lost him. How could I have lost him? How could I have let this happen?"

"You had no control over the situation. You could not have done anything differently." Phoebe desperately tried to calm her friend, to show her that she had to move forward.

"Everything in my life has changed, Pheebs. I needed Arnold's love to keep me sane in all of this. I honestly thought that was the one constant in my life once I got it. That was it. I finally had his love and it would never go away. If that can be taken from me, what can I believe in?"

"Believe in me. I'm not going anywhere. I promise you."

"Yeah, thanks, Pheebs. You're a pal." Helga stared at her bare room once more, "I have to let him go now."

"I know; that's why we cleaned out your room."

"No, even the bare spots remind me of him. I need to really let him go. I need to tell him everything; how much he's hurt me, how much I still love him, how I just need to move on, everything. Maybe I can move on then."

"Oh, Helga, that is a brilliant idea, and very proactive. If you want I'll go with you to Arnold's and be your support while you-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Helga started shaking her head and waving her hands in front of her, "I can't actually tell him all that! I can't let him know he has this hold on me again! Besides, as much as he hurt me, I just can't hurt him back. I can't make him feel guilty about hurting me so much. I can't."

"How else can you get your closure if you don't confront Arnold about all of this?"

Helga responded by opening her eyes wide. A smile crept across her face as a brilliant idea struck her. "I know exactly what to do, come on Phoebe, we need those trash bags back."

Confused on what was going on, Phoebe blindly followed Helga as they ran back to the garage to retrieve the bags of Arnold memorabilia. Arms refilled with the bags, Helga led Phoebe out the Pataki front door, grabbing something off of the end table just before closing the door behind them. A still confused Phoebe faithfully dragged the bags behind them as Helga marched her on to a city bus.

They sat quietly on the bus, a sense of determination and worth flooded Helga's face as she looked out the window, and Phoebe didn't want to disrupt whatever it was that Helga had planned. She needed her closure, and Phoebe allowed her whatever method Helga needed.

After about fifteen minutes, Helga paraded Phoebe off of the bus and down a few more blocks. Eventually they made it to their destination – the city dump. Perhaps Helga needed to take the items to the dump herself in order to reassure that she wouldn't be tempted to rescue them from the trash cans?

"Come on, Pheebs, we have a lot to do," Helga grabbed one of the bags from Phoebe and sprinted in to the dump, a bag over each shoulder. Phoebe picked up her remaining bag and raced after Helga, wondering what it was that they needed to do.

By the time Phoebe caught up, Helga was already rummaging through one of the trash heaps. "Helga, what on Earth are we doing?" Helga refused to actually inform her Asian friend, but instead instructed her to find a list of assorted items. Shrugging, Phoebe complied with a simple, "Searching."

In about an hour the girls had gathered a pile of items that seemed meaningless to Phoebe. Helga, on the other hand, seemed quite proud of their findings and gathered them all up in her arms. Without a word, the blonde carried their stash off to an open area of the dump. Phoebe quickly gathered the bags of Arnold items and followed her friend.

Helga then instructed Phoebe to make a circle out of the nearby tires. As the meek friend did as she was told Helga began piecing together their findings. In hardly any time at all Phoebe realized what Helga's plan was. Sitting inside the ring of tires was one last Arnold Shrine. Considering the whole process kept less than two hours, Phoebe was quite impressed on how accurate the proxy was. She figured the only thing closer to the actual Arnold was his cousin Arnie.

Phoebe praised Helga in the use of the proxy to get her closure. Helga awkwardly smiled and then stared at the shrine. It was her best work yet. The shrine was life-sized and a near-perfect trash heap monument to her lost love. Only one thing was missing in her final shrine to her beloved. After a brief pause Helga dug in to her shirt and pulled out the locket she still kept hidden around her neck. The picture of Arnold was updated; in fact, she had taken the picture of him on Valentine's Day. They had decided to relive their first date – while Helga was pretending to be his pen pal Cecile – and went to Chez Paris. He looked so amazing as he smiled at her in the picture.

Helga smiled at the picture and the memory, but quickly frowned again. Without a word, she stepped over the tires and placed the locket around the dummy's head, nestling the heart-shaped locket where Arnold's heart would be.

Phoebe placed a hand on Helga's shoulder, "Tell him what you need to."

Helga took in a few heavy breaths, and allowed tears to freely flow finally. "I love you, Arnold. I have loved you since the moment we first met. You know that I love you, and I probably always will in some part of my heart. But I can't do this anymore. I can't handle the pain in my heart whenever I think of you. And I think of you all the time."

Helga's voice got trapped in her throat. She choked down a few more breaths before dislodging her voice with a yell, "Why did you have to break my heart? What is wrong with you? What is wrong with me? Why couldn't you love me? Why did you have to lie to me? I thought we would be together forever! I was always there for you, dammit! You could have relied on me for anything. I would have died for you. I probably still would. That's was hurts the most, knowing that I would probably still lay my life down for you and you don't care about me at all! Not at all. How could you care? How could you care for me at all and do this to me? You're just as bad as Bob and Miriam and Olga! You're just like all of them. You're supposed to love me and you don't! You don't!"

Helga sobbed for a moment, but when Phoebe tried to comfort her she turned away. There was still so much more to tell "Arnold" she couldn't stop now. It pained Phoebe to see her friend hurting so much, but she quietly allowed Helga to grieve.

"I hate you, Arnold!" Helga screamed, "I hate the way you style your stupid hair! I hate that you still wear that stupid blue hat even when you have your parents back!" Helga reached over to her mannequin and snatched off the baseball cap she had found. She chucked it back at the shrine's face, just as she wanted to do to the real Arnold. "It looks stupid off to one side! Plus it's ridiculously tiny! Move on! You have your stupid folks back!" Feeling a sense of guilt, Helga bent down and delicately replaced the hat on the top of the proxy's head.

"I hate how you still see the good in me, no matter how mean I am to you, but you don't see how much you hurt me. How can you be so blind? Are you ignorant? Are you pretending you don't see it? Why won't you come back to me? Why won't you hold me and tell me it's all going to be alright? Why won't you say you're sorry and beg for me to take you back?" Helga punched the shrine in the shoulder and left her hand there to steady herself.

"I hate how I still daydream about us, or how I can still smell your shampoo. What on Earth do you use, anyway?" Behind her, Helga could hear Phoebe stifle a laugh at that last whaling question. It made Helga briefly smile as well. But that brief moment of happiness just reminded her of Arnold even more.

"Dammit! Why can't you get out of my head? Why can't I just let you go? I hate that I still stare at you at school. I hate that I still get lost in those gorgeous green eyes. I hate that you are still so hot and I'm still so attracted to you." Helga's gaze drifted to her locket on the dummy's chest. Without a sound, Helga started sobbing, "I hate that I can't seem to live a day without seeing you at least once! Why do I have to look at that stupid picture of you to get me through the day? Why can I not get out of bed without seeing your face first? Why?"

Helga gave up venting to the proxy, and instead started punching it. At first, Phoebe continued watching from a distance, allowing her friend to get the closure she so desperately needed. However, soon all Helga did was shout out "why" and violently punch the dummy. Helga's cries became more and more feral and anguished, screaming out between heavy gasps and sobs. Phoebe raced over to her friend, but still stayed back, for fear of getting pelted herself.

Helga continued punching and screaming at the Arnold Shrine for a good five minutes, until she fully exhausted herself, and the proxy had fallen in to an unrecognizable form. Phoebe silently praised Helga's good sense to not confront the real Arnold like this.

Phoebe finally went over to Helga to try to help her up off of her knees, but instead Helga asked Phoebe to bring the bags of Arnold paraphernalia they had brought from her room. With Helga's instruction, Phoebe managed to repair the Arnold likeness and arrange the three trash bags at the shrine's feet. Only once her task was complete did Helga allow Phoebe to help her out of the tire circle.

With Phoebe helping her stand, Helga dug a matchbook out of her pocket. She had swiped it off of the Pataki end table just before closing the front door. Bob had started making them for his company, and always kept a bowl of them by the coat rack. Stepping away from Phoebe, Helga pulled out one of the matches.

"Helga! What are you doing?" Phoebe ran in front of Helga, trying to grab the matches away from her friend.

"This is why I wanted you to make the tire ring. This way nothing else can catch on fire," Helga calmly explained, "It's time I truly say good bye to Arnold."

"You're going to burn him in effigy?" Phoebe couldn't seem to keep the shock out of her voice.

"I have to end this, Pheebs." She looked in to her friend's eyes, pleading with her, "let me do this."

Phoebe softened and let go of Helga's hands, allowing the girl to strike the match. As the fire crept down the cardboard Helga said her final farewell, "I'm done with you, Arnold. If you don't love me, then I won't love you. Let go of your hold on me and let me move on."

She tossed the match on to Arnold's likeness and watched as the pile caught fire. Phoebe placed an arm around Helga's shoulders as tears streamed down from both of their eyes.

"Oh, Phoebe, I still love him so much. I just want him to love me again."

"I know, Helga, I know."

Helga shouted one last time at the burning shrine, "I want you so badly, Arnold, but I'm not giving in this time! I can't hold on to the fantasy anymore! I'm moving on! You hear me? I'm moving on!"

The two girls held each other and cried as they watched the pyre burn down, the smell from the trash overwhelming, but they refused to leave. Helga needed to see it all burn. As the minutes past by the shrine collapsed and the heat from the flames shriveled up and eventually burned away the picture of Arnold in Helga's locket.

Finally, the girls kicked dirt on to the flames, smoldering them. Once the fire was properly put out they left the dump, arm in arm. Instead of taking the bus back, the two quietly walked home, silently reflecting on the ritual during their hour stroll home.

It was nearly Phoebe's curfew by the time they reached the Pataki home, and so the girls hugged each other goodbye. Helga watched her friend walk away before entering her house. Without a word to her family, Helga climbed the stairs to her room. She didn't bother putting the lights on, she didn't care to see the barren spaces once taken up by Arnold.

She got ready for bed in the dark, fumbling to move the box of cookies Phoebe brought. Helga then slid under her covers, laying on her right side originally. When she looked in to the moonlit room all she thought about was how empty it seemed. She just could not get to sleep like this. She hid under her covers, but thoughts of Arnold still refused to vacate her mind.

After hours of tossing and turning, eventually Helga just allowed herself to stare out her bedroom window. The stars were so bright, even with the light of the city blocking out most of them. Suddenly, something caught Helga's eye. She bolted upright and pressed her nose against her window pane.

Another star shot through the sky. She didn't even know a meteor shower was supposed to happen that night. She just sat and watched the shower, allowing the beauty to erase her mind. With each passing star more of her memories of Arnold vanished, until only one thought remained.

Helga watched her last star shoot by as she softly whispered her wish, "Please, let Arnold love me again."


	3. Lady In Red

****A/N: Dear LORD this chapter took FOREVER to write! THREE MONTHS? SERIOUSLY? *smacks own knuckles with a ruler* Bad Author, very bad Author! Anyway, sorry about the delay. Life got away from me. But I bought myself a Netbook, and so I should find more time to write now that I have more places that I CAN write (Originally I had just the desktop). Thank you for all you faithful readers patiently awaiting this update. I'll try REALLY HARD to do better at posting sooner than EVERY THREE FRIGGEN MONTHS!  
Anyway, now for the legal stuff - Hey Arnold! and its franchise are owned by Nickelodeon and remain the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett. I do not own any of the used characters or locations. But I hope you enjoy anyway!****

**LADY IN RED**

Arnold adjusted his blazer and quickly slicked down the stray strands of hair. Slowly emptying his lungs, he raised a finger to the doorbell. As he heard the buzz go off he checked himself one last time in the reflection from the front door's window. He wasn't really sure why he felt so nervous, but for some reason standing on this stoop, waiting for the door to open, was nerve-wracking.

Finally the door opened and a tall, slender woman welcomed Arnold. She was wearing a playful, green, plaid cocktail dress equal to the formality of what Arnold was wearing. Her blonde hair was held up in a bun by a pair of black chopsticks.

"Hey, Olga," Arnold was a little relieved that she answered the door, but still his anxiety grew.

"Oh, Arnold," Olga replied in a breathy voice that mimicked her mother's, "I'm just so happy to see that you were able to make it after all. Come in, come in."

Arnold followed Olga as she usheed him in to the brownstone. The sound of the party surrounded him as the voices of his former classmates mixed with the dance music.

"I'm surprised Helga neglected to inform me that you were coming," Olga continued as they walked towards the dining room.

"She doesn't know," Arnold smiled timidly, "I hope that's alright."

Olga had to swallow her squeal of excitement, "Oh, this is just so perfect! She'll love it! Just-" She put up her hands to motion Arnold to stay put. "Just stay behind me. This will be so great!" Nonchalantly, Olga turned in to the dining room and called out to Helga, "Oh, Baby Sister! Baby Sister dear, you have another guest!"

Arnold peeked around the corner and caught his first glimpse of Helga. His breath escaped him in one quick rush. Never before did he understand why movies used slow-motion in scenes where a pretty girl would turn to the main character for the first time. Now he realized it was because it truly felt like the world moved in slow motion when it happened in real life.

She was wearing a brand new, red, tea-length dress with thick straps. It showed off all of her blossoming curves without clinging to her slender frame. Short, white sleeves started at her underarms, leaving her soft shoulders bare. Tied around her waist was a long, pink sash that reminded Arnold of her usual elementary age dress. Her hair was pulled half up; a pigtail on the top of each half of her head with a small, pink bow securing it in place.

Arnold couldn't help but smile as he realized that Helga just couldn't seem to let go of the first thing he ever complemented her on, even if it was thirteen years ago. He was glad about that. She had plucked the unibrow right about when puberty kicked in. She rarely referred to her fists as "Old Betsy" and "The Five Avengers" anymore. Arnold heard that she even stopped hitting Brainy about three years back. She just wouldn't be Helga G. Pataki anymore if she also gave up her signature bow.

Helga's white heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she walked away from Gerald and Phoebe. Her dress swayed a little as she shifted weight with each step. Arnold quickly tucked himself back behind the hallway wall as she got closer. He closed his eyes and tried to smell her perfume even though he was still about a yard away. What was he doing? Why was he so nervous to see an old friend?

"Alright," Helga's voice had grown softer and gentler over the years, but that familiar harshness still laced her words as she talked to her sister, "where are they?"

Olga responded by giggling and stepping to the side. Arnold took his cue to walk out from behind the wall, his hand awkwardly in his pocket, and the other fumbling his small gift. He gave Helga a shy half-smile, "Surprise."

Helga's eyes flew wide and her lungs failed to refill with air. Finally, what precious little breath she had left escaped her lips in a soft whisper of his name. It felt so great to hear her say it; almost as sweet as when he first heard his mother say his name six years ago. Why? Why did it sound so angelic off of her lips?

Helga tried again to find her voice, "Arnold, what are you doing here?"

Without giving Arnold a chance to answer, Olga excitedly proclaimed, "To surprise you for your birthday, silly!"

Calmly Helga responded, "Yeah, well Mission Accomplished." Her eyes never left Arnold. He was proving yet again that he will always look good in a suit. He was wearing his usual dress outfit - white shirt, tie, black slacks and a blazer - and yet even with its familiarity she still melted. Maybe it was because of how familiar the outfit was that she felt so weak. She had some very good memories of Arnold in a suit.

But something bugged Helga and it snapped her back to reality. What was he doing here like this? She hadn't even invited him to her birthday. The only times he ever visited her for her birthday were during the three years they were dating. What was he doing?

With an awkward shrug, Arnold presented his gift to Helga, "Happy Sweet Sixteen."

"Arnold?" Finally noticing who the new arrival was, Gerald sprinted over to his best friend, nearly knocking Helga to the side. Olga laughed but took her cue to leave Helga with her guests. With a giggle she tapped a still stunned Helga on the nose before heading down the hall to the kitchen.

"Gerald!" Pulling the present back down to his side, Arnold held out his right hand with a thumbs-up gesture. Gerald placed his knuckles next to Arnold's and they wove their thumbs together as if they were about to start a thumb war. Arnold couldn't even remember how they decided this was going to forever be their personal handshake with each other, but it wouldn't have felt right if they didn't greet each other with it.

"Man, what are you doing here?" Gerald stepped to the side so Phoebe could tuck herself under his arm. Arnold again presented his gift to Helga as his response.

"Oh," Phoebe squeaked, "Helga." She looked over at her friend who still stood there bewildered. "Such a nice gesture," she motioned for Helga to take Arnold's gift, "Perhaps we should place Arnold's present with the others?"

Absentmindedly, Helga nodded in agreeance and accepted the small box in Arnold's hand. Their fingers brushed and both softly gasped as their hearts simultaneously skipped. No one seemed to notice the spark that ran through the duo.

Phoebe placed a hand on Helga's arm and pulled her towards the gift table in the TV room. Arnold and Helga's eyes remained locked as she passed by him. As Arnold started to pivot so he could continue watching Helga walk down the hall behind him, Gerald grabbed one of his shoulders and turned him away from the birthday girl.

"Arnold!" Gerald shook him a little to make sure he had his attention, "What are you doing?"

"Um," Arnold had forgotten there were any other people at the party besides Helga, "I was- nothing"

"Mmhmm," Gerald cocked an eyebrow at his oldest friend, "Try again there, Romeo."

"Romeo? Gerald, I don't-"

"Arnold, I saw you staring at her as she left."

"Oh, no. No, that was nothing. I was- I mean she just looks so non-Helga today. That's all."

"Whatever you say, Arnold," Gerald rolled his eyes, "Then how about we focus on something more important, like why the hell you didn't let me know you were in town."

Arnold looked sheepishly up at his friend whose arms were now crossed in front of his chest. Gerald had understandably given up on the tall afro over the years. He now kept a small puff of curly hair atop his head, accompanied with a goatee and diamond-studded earring. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with a red, suede vest over it and black dress slacks. Arnold always admired how Gerald made looking cool seem easy. He honestly imagined Gerald as a Dolbe and Gaffana model on more than one occasion.

"I'm sorry, man," Arnold finally replied. "It was sort of a last minute thing. We had to make sure my dad would be off of work and that my grandparents could have us come for Easter a week early. I didn't want to get anyone excited about me coming here early if it was going to fall through."

"Well why didn't you call me when you got in to Hillwood?"

"We just got here. I had just enough time to get dressed and come here. That's why I'm a little late."  
Gerald stared at him for a while as if trying to determine if he believed Arnold's story. After the long pause he held up his fist for another round of their handshake. Arnold smiled back and met Gerald's fist with his own. "Alright, man, we're cool," Gerald casually stated as they waved their thumbs.

Gerald walked Arnold over to the dining room table so they could sit and catch up. At the same time Phoebe cornered Helga by the gift table.

"Helga, what is going on with you? You seem very distracted now that Arnold's here."

Helga looked around at all of her guests dancing in the room and didn't trust that Brainy had the music loud enough to cover their conversation. She grabbed Phoebe by her elbow and quickly led her out on to the front porch.

"Phoebe, I have a bit of a problem and I need your help."

"Anything, Helga. What do you need?"

"I'm not really sure. That's part of the problem." Helga nervously paced across the cement stoop.

"Alright, then what is the conundrum you need help with?"

"I-" How should she put it? "I think I'm starting to have a- a 'craving'"

"Craving?" Phoebe slightly tilted her head like a confused puppy.

"For, uh, for 'ice cream'."

"A craving for ice cream?" As soon as the words left Phoebe's lips she understood their meaning. She quickly glanced back at the front door, as if she could see Arnold through the wood. "I thought you were, um, 'lactose intolerant' now."

"I thought so too, but as soon as I saw how good 'ice cream' looked in the 'bowl' I just got a strong craving for it."

"Do you want to attempt 'ice cream' again and see if you can handle it this time?" Phoebe felt a little silly to keep using this code from five years ago, especially when no one was around to hear them, but if it made Helga feel more comfortable, she was going to go along with it.

"I don't think so, Pheebs. I mean, 'ice cream' sure messed me up last time. I don't think my body could handle another 'bad reaction'."

"Alright, not a problem." Phoebe smiled up at her blonde companion who was now trying to balance on the cement banister of the stoop.

Helga jumped back off the little half-wall, "No problem? Whaya got, Pheebs?"

"It's simple, really. With all of the guests here to honor your milestone birthday it is only natural that your attention be split among them all. We just need to keep your visits with 'ice cream' short and far between and you should be able to make it through the night. In the meantime, I'm sure Gerald would love to keep him - I mean 'it' - occupied."

"Pheebs, you're brilliant! Perfect plan!" Helga gave Phoebe an uncharacteristically long hug in gratitude and the two walked back in to Helga's party arm in arm.

* * *

Phoebe's plan actually worked out masterfully. Every now and again Helga would bump in to Arnold briefly, but for the most part the two of them were kept separate by their adoring fans. So many of the guests were Arnold's old classmates, and they all wanted to catch up with him. The guests that weren't swarming Arnold spent their time trying to get the attention of the birthday girl.

Helga both enjoyed and hated how well Phoebe's plan worked out. She was relieved that she was able to not only keep her distance from Arnold - preventing any lingering feelings to resurface, but also be distracted from the fact that he was even there at all. However, there were those times when she remembered that he did travel such a long distance just to surprise her for her birthday, and she desperately wanted to spend that precious time together.

Arnold was even less of a fan of Phoebe's secret plan. He had come all this way just to spend Helga's birthday with her, and he wasn't getting much face time. He did enjoy hanging out with some of his old friends and telling them about his new life half-way across the country. He just wished that spending time with them didn't mean missing out on Helga's birthday.

He took every chance he could to find a reason to run in to her and talk. No matter how often he succeeded, one of them would be pulled away again. He ended up settling for getting a glimpse of her as much as possible. He made sure to follow her in to every room, trying to not make it obvious that he was stalking her throughout her party. For the most part, he did manage to stick with her all evening and he relished every stolen glance at the beautiful blonde in the red dress; even going as far as sneaking a few pictures with the camera he had stashed in his pocket.

Granted, he did make this trip specifically for her, but why did he feel such a strong desire to be with her the whole night? Why wasn't he satisfied with the brief moments he had with her, and fulfilling the rest of the evening by catching up with old friends? Everything was getting very confusing.

Arnold did have to admit that even though the other guests were preventing him from having more time with Helga; it was nice to see her so wanted. Sure, she was part of their group in elementary school, but it wasn't like anyone really wanted her there. It wasn't that they didn't want her there either, but she was just part of the group. She was sort of like Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, not unwanted, but not the number-one member of the group either. Arnold couldn't resist smiling as he watched Helga's attention pulled between so many people.

Nadine, now wearing her long, wavy locks down instead of in the spider-like quaff that Arnold was used to, spent a great deal of time talking to Helga about the Monarch butterfly's migration back from Mexico and the best place to be for them to possibly see the migration swarm as it passed by Hillwood.

Sid and Stinky - still inseparable and possibly more awkward as teenagers - discreetly pulled Helga away at one point. Arnold couldn't quite hear what they were talking about, but the three were laughing about some prank they were going to pull on Harold during his Passover celebration. Sid hadn't hit his pubescent growth spurt yet, and so he was one of the smallest guys in Helga's class. However, it also meant that he could still fit in his prized white, Beatle boots, which he typically now coupled with his grunge styling - although he did clean up a little for the party. Stinky was just as lanky as usual, but was no longer the tallest boy with all of his classmates finally growing. He had reverted back in to a pseudo-punk look; once again wearing black spiked cuffs with his black slacks and untucked button-down shirt.

Rhonda had cornered Helga in the hallway at one point. Rhonda's long, ebony hair swayed behind her as she sashayed over to the stair banister. She didn't seem to have changed much over the years. She still wore the most posh and high fashion clothing, but now with a much more feminine flare. What did change was her appreciation of Helga's style. The two girls chatted for a while about Helga's dress and hair-do.

Later in the evening, all of the party guests were gathered around Helga in her kitchen. The cake that Olga made was perched upon the kitchen island. The lights were dimmed, the candles were lit, and Helga's family led everyone in singing "happy birthday" to her. Helga looked around at all the people that came to celebrate. She was still amazed that – even after how horribly she had treated all of them the majority of their lives – so many were truly wishing for her birthday to be a joyous one.

One face in particular stood out to her. Arnold had nudged his way to the edge of the crowd so he could get a good look at Helga as she blew out her candles, the glow from the sixteen little flames warming her face. He pulled out his camera and quickly snuck a shot of her.

The camera was just barely tucked away again when her gaze fell upon him. While she had been scanning the rest of the crowd, her eyes locked with his and she smiled. It was so tender and welcoming Arnold forgot he needed to inhale again. With the grin still on her face, Helga closed her eyes for a brief moment – thinking of her birthday wish – and then she blew out the candles. Arnold had remembered how to breathe by the time Big Bob turned the kitchen lights back on.

The cake was cut and passed around and Harold was making all of the guys around him laugh as he stuffed his full slice in to his mouth. Although no longer a teenager, Harold was still the least mature out of all of Helga's friends. He was just as husky as well, but he started to put his weight and aggressiveness to good use as the defense captain of the high school's football team. The main thing about Harold that Arnold noticed was that, just as Helga never gave up her pink bows, Harold still wore a backwards blue baseball cap.

Harold laughed through the unchewed chunks of cake still in his mouth, spitting food all over the kitchen floor, as well as his audience. The crowd around Harold parted as Helga stomped over to one of her biggest bullying rivals in elementary school, all while still calling him "pink boy." Arnold readied himself to break up an old-school Helga G. Pataki rant against the husky man who was now a foot taller than her. Instead, Helga smirked at Harold as she playfully poked him in the stomach. She sternly, but calmly, told him to clean up his mess, to which Harold nodded and muttered his typical, "Madame fortress mommy". As he bent down to start cleaning up the floor Helga snatched off his baseball cap and ran off laughing. Harold laughed and pursued her out of the room.

About an hour after the cake, Arnold spotted Helga leaning against the banister of the stairs leading to the second floor. She was talking to Phoebe about something. Arnold tucked himself away as the little Asian-American girl glanced around for eavesdroppers. Once satisfied that no one was close enough to them, she stood on her tip toes in order to whisper something in Helga's ear. A smile sparkled in Helga's eyes and she let out a belly-deep laugh. Arnold hadn't seen her smile or laugh like that in years. He wasn't sure what Phoebe said to cause it, but he didn't want to ever lose that smile again. He waited for Phoebe to stand flat-footed, and pressed the camera shutter button. Looking at the digital review, he just smiled back at the shot. She looked so amazing; he instantly knew that photo was a keeper.

Back in the TV room, Sheena and Eugene danced up to Helga at one point to tell her what great taste she had in music – or at the very least, what great taste she had in picking Brainy to DJ. Sheena seemed to have further embraced her flower-child persona as she aged. Her hair was now down to her lower back and she wore a tie-dyed scarf in her hair like a headband; its long tales hanging off her shoulder. She also wore multiple hemp bracelets that she proudly proclaimed to have made herself. The main thing Arnold noticed about Sheena is that she was still enamored with Eugene, although he now didn't seem to mind the feminine attention as much.

Eugene kept his hair shorter and not as poofed up anymore. His underwear was now properly tucked inside his pants, and he actually dressed slightly more stylishly. As far as Arnold knew, Eugene was still a jinx, and was still just as in love with show tunes. In fact, Gerald had told Arnold that he was debating joining a glee club Eugene was starting up, but he was afraid it would diminish his "cool" reputation.

Arnold noticed as Sheena and Eugene danced by him that Eugene was wearing a hemp bracelet that matched one of Sheena's. He wondered if the two of them finally started dating and the thought pained him for some reason. Stealing another glance at Helga just made him even more sick to his stomach. What was wrong with him?

The sickening feeling got worse when a group of Arnold's former classmates surrounded Helga. First was Joey, the only other black kid in their class back in fourth grade; he just went by Joe now. Next was Robert, a quiet blond kid that was once on Arnold's YMAA basketball team. Next to Robert was Park, a nice enough Asian-American kid who was masterful at building forts and other such sanctuaries. Finally, the quartet was completed by Iggy, the coolest kid in Arnold's class back in elementary school - at least, before Arnold let it slip that Iggy wore bunny pajamas. Each one of them had changed over the years but Iggy was still the coolest of all of Helga's classmates - aside from Gerald, of course.

The four of them each walked up to Helga during a slow song in attempt to get her out on the dance floor. Helga did always have some sort of charm about her that just drew in guys: Stinky, Arnold's cousin Arnie, Brainy, even Arnold himself. Even himself. That sickening feeling grew and Arnold struggled to choke down the knot forming in his throat. He started to get hot and his muscles tensed up. He couldn't watch them all clamoring for her like that anymore. He ran out to the front porch.

* * *

Arnold was just about calmed back down when Gerald opened the front door and spotted him on the stoop. Not even bothering to ask why Arnold was out there, Gerald instead asked if Arnold knew where the birthday girl had run off to. Arnold's stomach again started turning; nervous that Gerald had figured out what he was doing. Apparently, though, Gerald was asking everyone if they had seen Helga. No one seemed to know where she had disappeared to when she left the dancing going on in the TV room. Phoebe and Olga were checking the rooms upstairs, but she still wasn't found. Arnold instantly agreed to help the search.

* * *

He opened the door to the brownstone rooftop and there, bathed in the warm glow of the city's lights and spotlighted by the moon, stood his blonde angel. The lights even gave her a beckoning halo. How had he never noticed the golden highlights in her hair before?

Her red dress gently shifted in the light breeze, and Helga brought up her right hand to tuck her wafting locks behind her shoulder and out of her face. She stood stoically at the half-wall ledge bordering her rooftop. She didn't seem to notice that she was no longer alone as she stared out over the ledge at the city. Arnold couldn't quite put his finger on it, but seeing her stare up at the moon with this gentleness about her seemed familiar to him, like a faded memory of a dream. Without taking his eyes off of her, he quietly pulled his camera back out from his pocket and took aim. He never wanted to forget how she looked that evening.

Once he captured the image of the serine Helga, he tucked his camera back in its hiding place and announced his presence, "So this is where you went."

Startled, Helga jumped as she turned around. Before she even spotted him, Helga knew who had found her. She would always recognize that voice - no matter how much age changed it and no matter how long it had been since she last heard it, "Arnold!" She caught her voice squeak a little as she said his name, the same way it always squeaked when he caught her off guard. Quickly, she hardened her voice and tried again, "I-I mean, what are you doing up here, Football Head?"

Arnold chuckled a little and bashfully smiled as he reminisced, "Football Head. Never thought I'd miss that nickname." He closed the rooftop door behind him and started to slowly cross the building towards Helga, "Anyway, I was actually going to ask you the same thing. Why aren't you at your party?"

"I was starting to get a little claustrophobic down there. Needed some air."

"Not easy being Olga, is it?" Arnold winced as soon as the words left his lips.

Just as he suspected, Helga threw her hands on to her hips and hardened up, just as she did when they were kids, "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Arnold started to rush by Helga's side, throwing up his hands in defense. He needed to dig himself out of this one, "Come on, Helga; look at you now. You're softer spoken, you're one of the girls, you're unconfrontational-"

Helga cut him off with a firm poke at his chest, "Look, Bucko, you better watch what you're getting at. Helga G. Pataki hasn't gone soft. I'm still as tough as nails and I can have 'Old Betsy' here prove it to ya."

Arnold backed away from her poking jabs and smiled at her, "Alright, you're still tough. Besides, I never necessarily said any of this was a bad thing. I'm proud of you."

Helga turned away from him and back out to her cityscape, waving a hand in dismissal, "Ah, well, now that I have your stamp of approval-"

"Oh, don't be like that, Helga. And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with that Olga comment. I just meant it's nice seeing you act nice. I like it, I always have."

A flood of memories hit Helga hard. The first hug she got from Arnold after she found the hat his parents had given him. Arnold unknowingly falling for her that Valentine's Day she pretended to be his French penpal Cecile. Arnold telling her that he thinks she's "OK too" when she thought she was dying with a case of Monkeynucliousis. Patty Smith restating this fact when she explained that she wasn't going to pound Helga due to Arnold's defense of her. Their Thanksgiving together when they were nine. Arnold specifically telling Helga that he liked seeing her act nice to get out of a modeling contract and asking her why she can't always be like that. Arnold willingly spending an entire Halloween party with Helga when she pretended to be Lila.

A grin tickled the edges of her mouth and her voice softened, "I remember you telling so once or twice."

They always did have a good time together when she didn't have her guard up. And no matter what, he seemed to always see that kindness inside her, even when she was bullying him around. She turned to face him again and saw that smile in his eyes as he looked at her. It was the look she had waited seven long years for. The look she never took for granted during those blissful three years of dating. The look she both yearned for and dreaded to see again.

She wanted to just leap in to his arms and hug him close. She wanted to tell him how much she still missed him. She wanted to let him know she still periodically flipped through her old elementary yearbooks just to see his face again.

But he had hurt her once, and she wasn't going to let him do so again. Phoebe's plan had worked so far; she just needed thirty more minutes. If she could just wait it out one last half-an-hour she knew she would be fine.

She choked down that love-sick feeling, wiped the longing-puppy-dog look off her face, and casually leaned against the roof ledge, "But you never got to telling me why you're up here, Arnoldo."

That half-lidded, goo-goo look stuck firm to Arnold's face. He took a step towards her, "Isn't it obvious? I was looking for you."

"Yeah, well, you found me. Now go find the other items on your scavenger hunt." What was he doing? What was he saying?

"I'm serious. I-well, I-I mean, we didn't really get a chance to hang out tonight, and well, my grandpa should be picking me up soon. I just thought it would be nice to just get a moment."

God, he looked so good. She needed him off the roof before she did something she was going to regret. She placed a hand on his arm and another on his back and tried turning him back towards the door, "Well, it was a magical moment, Arnold. Hope you had fun. Thanks for coming."

Arnold rolled out of her grip, a stern look finally inching across his beautiful, oblong head, "Helga."

"What?" Helga's hands again flew up on to her hips. Her voice got defensive and her look grew colder, "I'm sorry we didn't really get a chance to hang out. But I had a lot of other guests here tonight. Was I supposed to abandon all of them to just spend some time with you? And why, because you came the farthest?"

Arnold's voice became just as cold and defensive. Why was she acting like this? He saw how soft and friendly she had become with everyone else, why was she still this cold to him? "You abandoned the party to get some air; I was just hoping you'd do the same to spend some time with me. I mean, you did seem to spend at least some time with everyone. Why were you avoiding me tonight?"

"Oh, come on, I wasn't avoiding you."

"You were."

"No, I wasn't. Like I said, Hair Boy, I had a lot of other guests-"

"Which you spent some quality time with. Why not me?" His eyes again softened as the hurt shown through them. His shoulders dropped and his body sagged a little. Finally, the pain eked through his voice in a little crack, like he was going through puberty again, "Why not me?"

Helga sighed and turned away from him again, "Stop looking at me like I just ran over Abner. I wasn't avoiding you, time just got away from me."

"Helga. Tell me what's really going on."

"I'm telling you what's going on." She felt like they were back on the roof of the FTi building, instead of the roof of her own home. Why wouldn't he just accept the explanation she was giving him? Why did he have to keep digging? She wasn't going to crack this time. One dramatic confession was enough, "I was with my other guests. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I've become fairly popular after you left."

"Yeah, I've noticed." He walked around her so she was facing him again, "Why were you avoiding me?"

"Crimeny! How many times to I have to say I wasn't avoiding you! Besides, what are you belly aching for anyway? We're spending time together now, aren't we?" Helga threw her hands up in surrender. Why couldn't he just let this drop?

"Fine, you don't want to tell me, don't tell me. But you are right, I have you all to myself now and I think I know how I want to spend it." A smile crept up the right side of his mouth and he stared half-lidded at her again. He held out his right hand and bowed slightly, "Dance with me, Helga."

She brushed him off, trying desperately to ignore the romantic gesture, "I'm not quite ready to go inside yet."

He didn't waver, didn't stand up, didn't pull back his hand, "We don't have to go inside. Dance with me now."

"On the roof?"

"On the roof."

Helga crossed her arms, "There's no music, genius."

Finally standing upright again, Arnold smirked as he reached in to his blazer pocket. He pulled out his MP3 player and cranked up the volume. Without looking away from Helga, he hit play. Some jazz music pumped through the built-in speakers. The music wasn't the best quality through the speakers. It was hollow, but it was loud enough to echo off of the neighboring buildings, flooding Helga's rooftop with its smooth melody. He walked over to the half-wall and placed his MP3 player on the ledge. He turned towards the shocked birthday girl and again held out his hand, "Dance with me, Helga."

Helga walked over to him, neglecting to hide her confusion in her eyes, "Why are you doing this?"

"Come on, I saw Iggy and his lackeys ask you to dance."

"And clearly you didn't see me turn them down too."

"You-" He had rushed out of the room before. He didn't see her turn them down. A wave washed over him and that nauseous feeling he had when thinking of her dancing with anyone else instantly subsided. Now nothing was going to stop him, "Dance with me, Helga."

"Stop saying that."

"Then dance with me."

"Arnold, I don't think this is a good idea."

"Just one dance," he turned towards his MP3 player and quickly searched for the perfect song. If he was only going to have one, he wanted it to count. "Just one dance and I'll go back downstairs and wait to be picked up."

"Arnold," Helga wanted to dance with him so bad, but she just couldn't allow herself. Suddenly, the loud echo of the piano intro of Arnold's song encased them.

"No." Helga took a step back and shook her head. Without looking away, or putting down his extended right hand, Arnold reached down to his MP3 player with his left hand and hit the back button, restarting the song. Again, the piano intro blared, accompanied with a soft set of drums.

"Arnold, no." Again Arnold reached down with his left hand and restarted the song, unwavering. "Arnold, the neighbors are going to freak if you keep restarting that thing."

Again the piano intro restarted. Helga was getting irritated about hearing the same fifteen notes over and over again, "Arnold!" Arnold wasn't going to cave in. If all he had was this one song he was going to dance to the full song, even if he needed to restart it seventy times.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, alright! Just stop restarting that damn song!" Surrendering, Helga finally accepted Arnold's outreached hand. As he restarted the song one last time with his left hand, he pulled Helga in to him with the right. She moved to wrap her arms around his neck, but instead he caught her right hand with his left and placed her other hand on his right shoulder. Bringing his right hand down around the small of her back, Arnold extended their joining arms straight out. With a smile, he began to lead Helga around her rooftop in a waltz.

The song was a soft, jazz song that made Helga envision a group of high class gentlemen in an old Speakeasy. A small three-piece band consisting of a drummer, pianist, and a saxophone player gently playing on stage. Then the singer's voice finally broke in to the song, completing Helga's Speakeasy image by placing a voluptuous black woman in a yellow-sequined gown in front of the band and behind an old, gin-soaked microphone.

Stumbling a little as Arnold led her, Helga looked at him with concern plastered across her face as she finally caught on to the unorthodox dancing style, "What-what are we doing?"

"Dancing."

"No, I mean, we're waltzing, or something."

"Yup, it's a waltz." With a gentle push on her back, Arnold guided Helga in to a gentle spin under his outstretched left arm. They stood apart from each other, connected only through Arnold's grip on her right hand.

"I don't know how to waltz, Arnold." With a coy smile, Arnold finally whipped back his left arm, pulling Helga in to another spin before he caught her by replacing his right hand on her lower back.

Arnold pulled her in close to him and looked deep in her eyes. With a familiar smile – one that the "blind" Helga wasn't supposed to see – he leaned close to her. Helga swallowed hard as his lips reached over to her ear and whispered, "Don't worry, my dear friend, just follow my lead." He then pulled back so they could look in each other's eyes and added, "Trust me."

"For some reason, that's not very comforting to me."

Arnold started to lead her around the rooftop again, "Oh, come on. Don't you trust me anymore?"

"Well, it's just that the last time we ballroom danced together I ended up dropping in to the YMAA's indoor pool."

"Well, there are no pools here for me to throw you in to, so what's there to be nervous about?"

"Actually, that is precisely what I'm afraid of. No pools, but there is a rooftop ledge."

Picking up the pace a little, he spun them around a few times. It wasn't too comforting to Helga. "Oh, come on, Helga! Do you honestly think I would throw anyone off of a rooftop? Let alone you?"

"Well, I don't know. Perhaps I'm not the only one who changed while you were gone."

With a chuckle and the shake of his head, Arnold responded, "Just shut up and dance with me."

Complying, Helga just allowed him to lead her across the cement. When she did trust him she found herself not stumbling any longer. He was so graceful on his feet, and he made her feel like she was floating right along with him. He spun her under his arm again, but instead of snapping her back in to him, this time he gently led her back in to his arms. Once his right hand was on her back again he slowly dipped Helga. Instinctively, she trusted him completely, knowing that he wouldn't drop her. She closed her eyes and allowed him to lower her.

Once she felt him stop lowering her she opened her eyes, "Oh! You're pretty good."

Looking down at Helga, her long blonde hair draping behind her, Arnold smiled with soft serenity, "Why, thank you."

Helga's heart jumped as he thanked her. There was something in his voice, and in the song, and in this dance. She couldn't keep herself calm any longer. As he slowly raised her back out of the dip, she knew exactly the trap he dragged her in to and she needed her guard up again. Fast. Anything to keep her mind off of how amazingly romantic this whole thing was.

"Um, where-where did you learn to dance like this?" Helga failed to hide the fluster in her voice. She cleared it and looked away from Arnold. He, on the other hand, kept staring.

"My gym class has been teaching ballroom dances this past month. Seems a lot of high schools are starting to incorporate dance as a phys ed class."

"Oh. Well, you must be a good student."

"Shhh. Listen to the music and just dance with me."

"How long is this song anyway?"

"Stop talking. Just be in the moment."

"Arnold, I don't know if I can be in the moment."

Arnold shushed her again. He really wanted her to pay attention to the lyrics. That was the whole point of picking this song in the first place. With a gentle pull of his right arm, he tucked Helga close to him. He again placed his lips to her ears and starting singing the last verse to her, "There's that twinkle in your eye."

With a gulp, Helga tried pulling away, but he held tight, "Arnold. I'm not so sure this is a good idea."

He closed his eyes and continued singing to her, "Dear, you are my best friend."

"Arnold-" His voice had gotten so deep and rich over the years. He actually had such a sweet singing voice. She wanted to just let him sing the phonebook to her. And so, she relaxed, pressed herself against him, moved her hand off of his shoulder and in to the base of his hair, and let him sing.

He wished the song wasn't going to end soon. Just a few more lines and the moment would be gone. But for right now, right now he had her all to himself up there on that roof. There wasn't anyone in the house below their feet. There wasn't anyone in the neighboring brownstones. There wasn't anyone in the whole damn city. It was just the two of them, pressed cheek to cheek.

"So if you just stay with me, our loneliness can end. Forever, oh forever." As he drew out the long notes he turned his head towards her slightly, nuzzling her a little and inhaling her scent. What was that shampoo? "Please, just stay with me, forever. Stay, forever. Oh, forever."

As the outro started playing Arnold dipped Helga again. Slowly, and in time with the saxophone's ending notes. Again with eyes closed, Helga allowed herself to be dipped, showing Arnold complete trust as he lowered her farther than he did before; she even had to pop up one of her legs to help balance her.

Once the song concluded Arnold slowly lifted her back up again. Their faces close, they looked deeply in to each other's eyes. Helga slowly blinked with love restored in her gaze. Arnold's glance scanned her whole face, not wanting to forget even one pore. She was gorgeous and new. He didn't really know this new Helga, but he really wanted to. He wanted to hold her until he learned every nuance.

With every blink, their faces inched closer and it took longer for them to re-open their eyes. With both hands on Helga's back and both of her hands on his shoulders, they pulled each other in, their heads subtly tilting in opposite directions as they crept closer. Arnold's head dropped slowly as Helga instinctively raised hers.

Just as their lips were about to touch, Helga's eyes dreamily opened for one last glance at her prince. Suddenly she was hit with the realization of what she was about to do, and she abruptly pushed away. "Ar- Thank you for the dance. It was lovely." She ducked out of his arms and walked over to Arnold's still playing MP3 player. More jazz, how did she know?

"Helga?" Arnold had no clue what just happened. Everything seemed to be going so well.

Helga turned off his player and handed it back to him, "Wonderful way to end my birthday. Thank you."

As Helga backed away from him, Arnold looked at the player in his hand and then up at the girl he wanted so desperately to kiss, "Helga, is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. No, not at all."

"I thought we had a connection there."

"We did. We do. We always do. And that's the problem."

"I don't understand."

"Look. Thank you so much for the beautiful evening. It was a dream come true. It really was. From you traveling all this way just for me, all the way up to that dance. It really was a magical night."

"Helga, tonight was amazing for me to. I mean, you have become so sweet – but still strong – and confident and just so gorgeous." Arnold moved towards Helga, but with each step forward she took one backwards. "You've really blossomed and I just wanted you to know that I couldn't keep my eyes off of you tonight."

"Arnold-" Stupidly, Helga had backed herself against the rooftop's ledge. She couldn't shy away from him anymore, and so she turned her back towards him instead.

Arnold stepped close behind Helga and placed a hand on her shoulder. Gently, he turned her back towards him and used his free hand to raise her chin so he could look in to her piercing blue eyes. "Helga. My stomach has been all twisted tonight and my chest has had this tight knot lodged in it and the only time I've felt good and normal and not sick was just now when I held you."

"Arnold," Helga's voice was breathy. She wanted to trust him this time. It was Arnold, after all. The love of her life, the man who would always hold her heart, he never meant to hurt anyone and he always tried to make things right. If she couldn't trust him, who would she be able to trust?

Those emerald green eyes looked down at her with such longing. She remembered when she used to look at Arnold like that. How could she deny him? Her heart melted as she looked at him and she felt her eyes closing again. His hand gently tilted her chin more as his fingers stretched out to caress her jaw line. Once Helga's face was fully tilted up towards his, Arnold unfolded his thumb and moved his hand so his fingers were in her hair, his thumb now stroking her ear. She could feel his soft breath on her skin as their mouths inched closer. Both of their hearts raced in unison as Arnold again moved in for that sweet kiss.

Abruptly, Helga's eyes flew open and she again pushed away from Arnold just before their lips met. "Arnold, we can't. I can't. Not again."

"Helga?" Arnold's voice cracked as he called out her name. Twice now, twice! What on earth was going through this girl's head?

Helga knew then that her beloved, optimistic, dense Arnold just wasn't going to let it go. He would always focus on winning Helga back and she needed to stop it. Now. Standing sternly in front of Arnold, like a Catholic school teacher who just caught a misbehaving student, she decided the direct route was the only way he would understand.

"Arnold, I opened my heart to you once before and you squashed it. I was a wreck! I got so angry at everything! Do you know why I stopped clobbering Brainy? Getting in trouble for it never stopped me. Having a psychologist who quickly became my mentor telling me I shouldn't hit him didn't stop me. You asking me to stop didn't do anything. Want to know why I stopped? Finally stopped? I broke Brainy's nose! Caved the damn thing right in! Because I was mad at the world when you broke up with me. Brainy's nose got broken because you dumped me! I won't let myself get that screwed up again, Arnold. I can't. I'm done hurting people."

Trying to revive her "tough guy" exterior from her elementary days, Helga glared at Arnold with her arms crossed. However, remembering all of that hurt from three years ago started lining her eyes with tears. She was just glad that it had become dark enough that Arnold couldn't see them as long as they kept their distance.

Arnold stumbled back a little. How could he have not known? How could he have been so wrapped up in his own little world that he didn't know? He remembered Brainy being out of school for a week, but he didn't really know why. He also knew Helga went on a tirade after they broke up. How come he couldn't put it all together? For someone who tried his best to help people, how could he not have noticed how many he hurt?

"Helga, I-I'm so sorry. I didn't realize-"

Helga softened her voice, but still kept her body tense and cold to him, "Look, I know you were trying to do the right thing, but it's now my turn to do the right thing." She took a long, deep breath to compose herself, "Arnold, I still have feelings for you too. They came back as soon as I saw you in that blasted suit!" She looked bashfully away, "That's why I've been avoiding you all night, OK? I- I just can't let myself get hurt by you again!"

Before Helga could realize what was happening, Arnold rushed her and scooped her up in his arms. Unlike Helga, Arnold freely let the water flow out of his eyes as he held her close.

"Helga, I am so, so sorry for hurting you. We were young and I thought I was doing what was best for you."

"I know you were."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, or cause anyone else pain."

"I know, Arnold."

"I don't want to hurt you again. I just want to hold you and see that beautiful smile."

"Arnold." Helga leaned back to look at him and saw the lines the tears left down his face. The tears lingering in his eyes made them sparkle like gemstones. Even with the hurt look on his face, Arnold still smiled down at her, trying to get her to mimic him. He looked so wounded and all she wanted to do was comfort him and tell him she forgave him a long time ago.

Instead, she fell back in to his arms and sobbed. "Oh, Arnold, I've missed you so much."

Arnold embraced her like he was trying to protect her from all the hurt in the world – his one arm wrapped tightly around her back and the other cradling her head. Finally, silently, Arnold felt his chest get wet from Helga's tears. Unpinning her arms from between their chests, Helga slid them around Arnold's sides before bringing them around his back and squeezing tightly. She had him again. She wasn't going to let go this time.

After a quiet moment in each other's arms, Arnold gently backed away from her just enough to see her face again. With a kind smile, he brought up his hands on each side of her face and wiped away both her tears and their tell-tale trails with his thumbs.  
"I'm here, Helga. I'm here now."

Allowing her passion to finally take control, she pulled Arnold back in to her, their lips at long last touching. Easing in to the abrupt kiss, Arnold's hands slid back in to Helga's hair and kept her close. His right hand dropped down to the small of her back and he held her so she couldn't escape again. Helga's nails gently scraped across his back as she gathered his shirt in her fists, gripping him tight.

The past be damned, this felt right. Helga's kiss was strong, and powerful; cushioned with cherry-flavored, silky lips. Arnold's kiss back was soft and beckoning, as if he were embracing Helga with just his lips. Yearning and desire that had been building for three years and could only be expressed by teenagers sparked between their mouths.

Neither of them heard the door to the roof creek open. It was Gerald's deep voice that made them jump away from each other, "What on earth is going on up here?"

Sheepishly looking away from each other, both Helga and Arnold attempted to talk their way out of what Gerald just witnessed, but he just shook his head and muttered, "Whatever you say." That equally awkward moment in San Lorenzo six years ago popped in to all three of their heads, but none of them said so aloud.

Helga gave Gerald an empty threat as she rushed past him and down the stairs. Arnold slowly followed her, trying to avoid looking at Gerald's cocked eyebrow as he passed by. With one more "Romeo" comment, Gerald closed the roof door and ushered Arnold back down to the party. Arnold ignored his best friend's questions, only responding with a boyish grin.

As they descended the final flight of stairs, Arnold spotted Helga waiting for him in the foyer, Phoebe standing next to her asking just about as many questions as her boyfriend. As he stepped down on to the hall floor Helga informed him that his grandfather was in his Packard out front and he probably needed to get going. Arnold muttered a soft "yeah" and dreamily walked to the door. Helga walked him out and made sure to close Gerald and Phoebe inside.

With a quick peck on the cheek, Helga thanked Arnold again for "the best birthday ever," and slinked back inside. He floated backwards down the front steps and wandered to the Packard. Helga sighed heavily as she leaned against the inside of the front door and was instantly bombarded with questions from both of their best friends.

****A/N: OK, so this isn't were I was originally going to end the chapter - in order for it to come full circle to the first chapter Arnold and Helga can't be together, right? However, this chapter was running long (almost 3000 more words than the last chapters...) and I wanted to give the Arnold/Helga shippers a chapter ending they'd like, so HERE YA GO! ^_^ How I WAS going to end this chapter is now going to be its own chapter, and that's coming up next. So you H+A shippers better grab a tissue box... sorry.  
I wanted to find the perfect song for Arnold to dance with Helga to, and so the first two weeks of my writing hiatus was focused on that, only to decide that a song from the real world wouldn't exist in Hillwood. Everything is a parody there (except for Babe Ruth...), which is why I also snuck in the Dolbe and Gaffana joke (instead of Dolce and Gabbana? Get it?) Anyway, you wouldn't know it from this chapter, but the song Arnold played is by the artist Ella Holiday (Ella Fitzgerald + Billie Holiday...). I also wanted to use more-or-less a full song throughout multiple chapters, and so I took on the task of writing my own song. I shouldn't quit my day job. This task plus sickness, the holidays, wedding planning, and working CRAZY hours at work just ate up the past three months. OH! Also, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with Arnold and Helga on the rooftop, but I had the hardest time pacing out Helga's party leading up to the dance scene! This was the first chapter I have written (actually the first of all my posted writings here) that I had about seven re-writes of! CRAZY!  
Anyway, if you were interested in the feel of the song Helga and Arnold danced to, as well as the pacing of the music in time with his dance moves, listen to Natalie Merchant's version of "One Fine Day".  
As for the song this chapter is based on, it would be "Lady in Red" by Chris De Burgh.  
WOW! Even the A/N are super long in this chapter... this chapter just won't die! Anyway, as always, please review. I greatly enjoy the glowing responses, but please remember to ConCrit as well so I may improve. Thanx everyone!****


	4. I Will Always Love You

****A/N: OK, so this update only took me six weeks to finish! And that includes a little two-chapter Valentine's Day story that I posted last month! So, if I hadn't worked on that story this chapter would have been up sooner! Horray, I'm starting to write faster. ^_^ Having this new netbook really is helpful. If I really get in to the swing of things I just might be able to get one more story in before my April Script Frenzy hiatus. Yup, I'm taking a prose-writing break throughout the month of April to participate in NaNoWriMo's sister event: Script Frenzy. I will be co-writing my own version of The Jungle Movie's script! So excited! Stay tuned for that!**

**Anyway, let's get this legal stuff out of the way so you guys can get to your chapter! Just remember HelgaxArnold shippers, you might want your tissue boxes. . In case you forgot, I do not own anything in the 'Hey, Arnold!' franchise. 'Hey, Arnold!' remains the property of Nickelodeon and the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett.****

Helga and Arnold were cuddled up on her bed. She had replaced the heart-covered wallpaper right around the time her and Arnold had broken up. After clearing out everything that reminded her of him she needed to completely redesign the bedroom to fill in all the empty spaces. She had painted her bedroom a slate-blue and added texture by painting gray over it with a feather duster. She replaced the green drapes that matched her old wallpaper with regal purple ones. There were new box shelves - the ones where every other box had a backing to it in order to add dimension. A bookshelf that reached the ceiling was filled with Helga's library of literary works and textbooks for school. Arnold was a little upset that he couldn't spot a single journal or notebook on the shelf. He wondered if Helga still wrote poetry, and if so, where she hid it.

The renewed couple had been spending nearly every waking moment with each other since Helga's birthday. The only time they really were away from each other was on April first when Helga joined Sid and Stinky for an April Fools prank on Harold during his Passover celebration. As much as he would have enjoyed hanging out with the boys, and as much as he hated not being with Helga, Arnold still felt that a religious celebration wasn't the time to pull a prank on someone. He tried to convince Helga of that fact, but she just kissed him, called him a loser, and went with the boys anyway.

As Helga lay quietly on Arnold's chest, he held her tight and thought about the only other day they were apart. Yesterday. Easter.

Even though Arnold's grandmother always got the holidays confused - except for Halloween, she always seemed to remember Halloween - Arnold still had a mostly normal Christmas and Easter. Since these were religious holidays they were also the only times Phil didn't indulge his wife's confusion. They might have shot off fireworks and barbequed on Thanksgiving. They might have exchanged gifts for the "twelve more days of Christmas" whenever Gertie saw her shadow on April first. They might have ignored the glaring of black cats she tried to wrangle up every Friday the Thirteenth. They might have even re-celebrated Christmas on Independence Day. However, Phil still tried to keep Easter and Christmas as normal as he could – to preserve the religious aspects of the holiday.

Helga's family was sort of the same. No matter what animosity there was the day before or after, during the "big four" holidays – Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Easter – they tried to put everything aside and act like a traditional, loving family. It came easier after that Thanksgiving Helga ran away. Everyone realized how unnoticed and underappreciated the youngest daughter felt, and they tried their hardest to remedy those feelings – at least around the holidays. And Helga also learned that her family's pathetic attempts at normalcy were their way of showing how much they really cared for each other.

Seeing how Arnold and his parents had to head home the next day, neither member of the couple wanted to spend Easter apart. They each had their own family obligations, though, so they promised to spend as much of the following Monday together as they could.

"Oh, it was a disaster yesterday." Helga finally killed the silence with this revelation. She nuzzled her head against Arnold's shoulder until it was finally tucked underneath his chin. He tried to look down at her to acknowledge that he heard her statement, but with her head nestled under his own he couldn't see her very well. With an awkward craning of his head to the side he finally caught her gaze. She laughed at his unnatural positioning and scooted back to his shoulder so he could again look at her without putting a kink in his neck. Once they were back in comfortable positions she continued, "I wish you were here as a buffer. I could just look at your sweet smile and nothing else would matter."

Arnold gave her a soft half-smile and kissed her forehead. "I'm sure it wasn't so bad, Helga."

"Wasn't so bad? Sure, they try to not take me for granted so much since that incident when we were nine, but Olga still treats me like her little kitchen slave!" She changed her voice so it was a mocking wisp, "Hel-ga boil me some eggs. Baby sister, dear, make sure the honey glaze is even on the ham." Helga then changed her voice to as deep and manly as she could, "Girl, don't forget we need these hundred-some plastic eggs filled with coupons so I can hide them around my store tomorrow." Helga huffed and returned her voice to normal, "Olga tries to play it off as 'sisterly bonding' and Bob tries to get Miriam and Olga involved so the plastic egg stuffing is a 'family affair' but no one fools Helga G. Pataki. Holidays here are still a pain."

Arnold sighed knowingly and kissed Helga on the top of her head. "You're right. It's bad, and I'm sorry I wasn't here to comfort you," he said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, you better be sorry, Bucko," Helga teased as she brought her lips up to meet his. "Do you know how much better yesterday would have been if I just snuck off to see you? That one Thanksgiving we spent wandering aimlessly together was probably one of the best holidays I've had."

Arnold's only response was brushing Helga's bangs out of her face and smiling. She shifted so she was lying on her side, her elbow propping herself up so she could look Arnold in the eyes. Her eyes were deep in thought, a little sad looking, and filled with longing. A hint of a smile gently tugged at the corner of her mouth. "No matter how bad everything else is going that day, all I need is to be with you and my day is magically better."

Arnold had every intention to grab hold of her, never let her go, and kiss her with as much passion as she always kissed him. Instead, her words lingered in the air like a thick fog. He had a hard time focusing on anything else. She needed him, really needed him. She always had. Ever since that one act of kindness at the Urban Tots Preschool she had needed him for one reason or another. Although it felt great to be so needed, it was also still too much for a teenager to bear. Especially from a distance. What if she had a horrible day and she needed him? What if the only thing that could comfort her was his kiss, his smile, his voice, or his arms? A thick pain filled his chest and Arnold found it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

"Arnold? What's wrong?" Helga sat up and stared at him with concern plastered to her face.

He couldn't look at her; he just sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I have to go."

"Go?" Helga frantically glanced at her alarm clock, "I thought you didn't have to head out for another two hours."

"I don't-" Arnold's voice was soft and trailed off.

"Do you still have packing to do? Because I can go over to the boarding house with you and help."

"No, I'm packed." Arnold hunched over and avoided Helga's gaze.

"Is there something else you need to do? Why do you have to leave so soon?"

Arnold clenched his eyes closed, forcing his eyelids to dam up the tears threatening to break through. He sighed heavily through his nose and again tilted his head away from Helga.

"Arnold?" Her voice was laced in panic. It was the same way she called out his name when he broke up with her three years ago. He hated hearing her say his name like that. He wanted to grin ear-to-ear, hold her close, and tell her that there was nothing to worry about.

Instead he heard a voice scarily close to his own say, "I don't think I can do a long-distance relationship."

The air escaped Helga's lungs so violently Arnold could hear it rush past her lips. "Wh-what do you mean?"

Arnold sat in the heavy silence for a moment before his eyes abruptly shot open and his head bolted around so he was looking at the heartbroken blonde sitting next to him. His own breath left him with a shake as it struggled to exit his throat. Why? Why did he need to let her go again? He wanted so badly to keep her. Everything was so unfair. Before he had Helga, but he didn't have his parents. Now that he had his mom and dad he couldn't have Helga. Was there a grand scheme that the Fates had in store that required that he couldn't have all three in his life at once?

"Helga, this is wonderful. I've had the best week of my life – except for the one we spent in San Lorenzo that is. It's just-" Arnold released another shaky breath, "what kind of relationship would we have, really?"

Helga couldn't find actual words to answer him. She tried. She started a hundred words, always cutting off at the first syllable. She stumbled over her tongue as the thesaurus in her mind quickly flipped through its pages in an attempt to find just the right answer.

"Helga, really, we'd just be boyfriend and girlfriend by title alone. We wouldn't even talk to each other in who knows how long."

Like a magic spell, Arnold's sentence untied Helga's tongue and she immediately shot back, "What on Earth do you mean by that? We'd talk to each other!"

"Can you remember the last time we've communicated in the last three years since I've moved?"

"You wrote me at least once a week, Football Head. Don't tell me you've forgotten." Helga was defiant and sat up straight. She was going to win this debate.

"Yeah, and I never got a letter back from you and so I gave up last year." Arnold didn't want to sound mad or hurt by the fact that she never responded to his letters, but bitterness seeped through regardless.

Helga's eyes widened and she sheepishly looked away from him. At first Arnold thought it was her admission of guilt that made her turn from him, but then she stole a quick glance at him and hopped off the bed. She ran to her closet and knelt down to the floor. She lifted a loose floorboard just in front of her closet door. Out of the hiding place she pulled out an accordion folder. Clutching it close to her chest she shyly returned to her bed. Looking away from him still, Helga handed the folder to Arnold.

The folder was stuffed to the point of nearly ripping. Each subfolder was labeled with a month. Inside each month's subfolder were unstamped letters. They were all addressed to Arnold and there was nearly one for every day he had been gone. Arnold shot his head up and caught Helga's gaze. With a soft nod of permission, Arnold arbitrarily opened some of the envelopes.

The letters read like diary pages. She would tell him about life in Hillwood, the chaos created by their friends and classmates, the insanity inside the Pataki home – especially after Olga moved back home with a brand new career goal of becoming an actress, but mostly she wrote about how much she missed him. She missed being able to see his face every day. She missed hearing his voice. She missed using him as a moral compass. She missed just sitting quietly with him. She just missed – him.

The tears again pushed against his eyelashes and threatened to fall. She needed him. She needed to talk to him. She needed his advice and comforting words. She needed his warm arms and quiet embraces. She needed his tender kisses on her forehead and temples. She needed his nonjudgmental shoulders to cry on and ears to vent to. Arnold's chest knotted and a burning pain grew in the nook of his ribcage. This was exactly what he feared. Helga needed her boyfriend. She needed Arnold. And he wasn't available to her. Granted, it wasn't exactly his fault. He didn't know she needed him because she never sent the letters. But still, he should have called to make sure she was alright. He knew she wasn't still mad at him because they had hung out on the few occasions he visited Hillwood. Why didn't he call her to make sure she was fine?

"Why didn't you ever send these?" Arnold's voice cracked.

Helga looked away from him with such sad and ashamed eyes. With a shrug she just shook her head. After a moment she finally responded, "I guess I was ashamed. You seemed to be having this exciting new life with your parents and you were fine without me. My life wasn't all that amazing and I just needed you so desperately. I didn't want you to pity me, or feel bad, or think I was pathetic or anything like that."

For a moment Arnold forgot that he was trying to break up with her and he pulled Helga in for a tight embrace. Shock kept Helga stiff for a few seconds before she melted and rested her head on Arnold's shoulder.

Realizing he just took steps backwards, Arnold pulled away. "This is exactly why we really wouldn't work. You needed me and not only couldn't you tell me, but even if you could I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. I wouldn't be able to hold you or kiss you. Who knows how easy it would be for us to get on the phone or even on the internet at the same time with the time difference between us? You would have to wait for me to get your letter, read it, and respond. That's too much time passing when you need me to comfort you. If we couldn't even communicate as friends, how would we be able to do so as a couple?"

"I'll send you letters, I swear I will. You know me. I'm a writer. I can write. Hell, I already pretended to be Cecile once; I'm sure I could do so again and be twice the penpal she ever was! And I can send emails instead of snail-mail. Sure, there's still a delay, but it would still work. I won't be embarrassed this time. I can write to you, or stay up late so you can call me when you're available. Or texting. I can buy us cellphones and we can text each other."

"Helga, it's not just the communication. What about the interaction? We wouldn't be able to go on dates, or go to school dances, or kiss each other, or hold each other. Really, what 'couple-y' things would we be able to do? What is really the point? When it comes to socializing it would be like we didn't have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Worst yet is if someone else liked us we still wouldn't be able to go on dates, or kiss, or hug anyone, because we'd be cheating on the other person. There would be no point."

"You have been my only boyfriend, Arnold," Helga's voice was soft, like she was afraid to admit this fact to him. "Even if we weren't technically dating, I still wouldn't go out with anyone else. I just want you."

"See? All I'm doing is standing in your way. You should enjoy high school. You should go out to dinners and movies and bowling. You should go to school dances with a guy and then drag him on to the floor to slow dance. You should have someone you can steal kisses from on your front porch. You should have someone you can wrap your arms around and never let go." Arnold's throat started closing up as he mentioned everything he wanted to do with Helga, but imagined her doing all of it with some other guy.

"Arnold-"

"No," his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat to drop his voice back to its normal level, "You deserve all of this. You have so much love and it's not fair that I'm stopping you from enjoying a real relationship."

"You putz! Aren't you listening to me? You. Are. The. Only! Person. I. Want. To. Date!" Helga over annunciated her last sentence. Fire regrew behind her eyes.

"What about Iggy?"

"What?"

Arnold recalled his former classmates gathering around Helga at her Sweet Sixteen earlier that week. Each boy asking Helga to dance with him, hoping he would be the one she'd finally say yes to. His stomach turned as much as it did when he witnessed them Peacocking in front of her. "Or Joe, or Park, or Robert?"

Helga really started to get worked up. She bounced on her bed, simultaneously twisting to better face Arnold and pulling her legs up under herself so she was kneeling at his eye level. "What are you talking about?"

"And I'm sure someone as gorgeous as you have even more men tripping over themselves. You have all of these options that you're ignoring because of me. I'm holding you back."

"Stop it! You're not holding me back!" She started flailing around. "You are who I want and even if we weren't together I wouldn't date anyone else! I loved you from afar for seven years; without being able to hug you, kiss you, hold your hand, or even be kind to you. I then remained single another three years after we broke up. I would wait until I could follow you to the ends of the Earth! There. Is. No one. Else!"

Arnold caught Helga's hands and held them, trying to calm her down. He kissed her fingers and stood up. "But there should be." He closed his eyes and turned his head away from her as he let go.

"Arnold Phil Shortman! You promised me you wouldn't do this again." He had. She didn't want him to kiss her up on her rooftop. She didn't want to dance with him. She didn't want to start up a relationship that was doomed from the start. He had convinced her that he wasn't going to let go this time, and yet here he was, turning away from her.

He felt so guilty for causing her this pain again, but he also knew he was doing the right thing. If he hadn't broken things off she would resent him for never being here. She would resent him for not being available to comfort her, hold her, or kiss her. She would resent being left home alone Friday nights when all of her friends were going to the movies with their dates. She would resent spending Valentine's Day alone. She would resent going to dances alone – if she went at all – and then not having someone to slow dance with. He knew her high school years and her teenage love life would both be filled with regrets and missed opportunities if he held on to her. He hated the idea of her having regrets and resenting him for it. He knew he would eventually feel guilty about that and would have to let her go over the phone. She deserved more than a relationship mercy killing over the phone. She also deserved more than to waste her time in a doomed relationship. Yes, breaking it off now was what was best. Arnold was sure his grandfather would be proud of his decision.

"Arnold, don't leave me." Helga's voice was stern and demanding, like a parent trying to figure out who broke the livingroom lamp, but it also had pleading grunted in to it.

Arnold stood in the middle of her room; looking at nothing and his back towards her. "Honestly, Helga, I'm not just thinking about you." He instantly felt less noble stating that aloud. "I just don't know how I would be able to handle missing out on all of that stuff as well. Not being able to take my girlfriend out to the movies or to dinner or to the school dance or surprise her with something on Valentine's day. I want to be able to hold my girlfriend, comb my fingers through her hair, and kiss her soft lips. Plus, I would feel guilty knowing that you'd want to go to a dance and I wouldn't be able to take you. I would feel guilty forcing you to always be alone."

Helga walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, trying to lure him back. "Arnold, you believe in so much. You have faith in so much. Why can't you have faith in our love? Why can't we be something you fight for? You'd risk everything for a vacant lot, or an old tree, or a school teacher, but you won't fight for us?"

Arnold's muscles twitched as each one tried on its own accord to turn him towards Helga. He struggled against his impulses and instead stated, "I fight for things that are worth the effort." Helga instantly dropped her arms and backed away from him.

God, he sounded like such a jerk saying that. The words were bitter in his mouth. He didn't mean to sound so harsh. He didn't want Helga to think their love wasn't worth fighting for, he just meant that they were doomed from the start and that it would hurt more if they dragged things out. All of a sudden Arnold recalled their fourth grade play and how a bizarre turn of events left him – the last possible male student – and Helga – the last choice of female students – as the leads of Romeo and Juliet. What wicked foreshadowing of their own star crossed love affair.

Arnold turned and saw Helga struggling to breathe as she hugged herself. His own breath lodged in his throat and he couldn't manage to swallow the suffocating lump. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that how it sounded. I meant-" He placed the side of his index finger under her chin and gently raised her head so their eyes could again meet. "I really did have an amazing time this week. I just think it's best if we considered this as one last fling – sort of like a summer romance. Completely wonderful while it lasted, but with the understanding that it had no future."

Helga turned her head away and clenched her eyes closed. Some tears still managed to slide out and streak down her cheek. That knotted burning in Arnold's chest returned and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"Please, don't cry. Just, think of this as a memorable week. Think of our rooftop dance. Think of this as our own 'we'll always have Paris' moment. I know I will." Helga slowly opened her eyes. Her glistening diamond eyes. He couldn't look at them. The hand Arnold used to wipe away Helga's tears snaked its way to the back of her head and he used it to pull her close. He touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. He wanted to breathe her in so deeply he would never forget her scent.

"I'm so glad I was able to hold you one last time." Arnold absentmindedly massaged the back of Helga's head, "Able to kiss you one last time. Able to call you mine one last time." He wanted to say so much more, but his own tears finally crept past their barrier and dripped on to Helga's skin. He couldn't find his voice and so he just wrapped his arms around her head in a gentle, but tight embrace. In a quick movement he kissed her forehead and let her go.

With her own quaking breath, Helga whispered, "This doesn't have to be the last time."

"I think you know I'm right, Helga." Arnold hoped that was the case. "You needed to love me Once Upon a Time because of some transference whatever with your own family. I get that. But your family is treating you better now and I saw how popular and loved you are. You don't need to love me and you don't need me to love you. Not anymore."

"I do, though," Helga whispered.

"No. I'll just be in your way now. I'm no longer what you need. You need someone who can be here for you and take you places and dance with you. You know you don't really need me anymore."

"You're wrong. Just so wrong, Football Head." Her voice was monotone and barely audible.

"Look, I know that you are destined for great things, and I'm hoping to see your name posted everywhere someday. I hope that everything that has happened the past three years proves that Life will be good to you and that you'll have everything you've ever dreamt of and hoped for."

"If I don't have you I'm not going to have even half the stuff that I've envisioned my future to hold." Helga rocked a little, as if she wasn't sure if she should walk towards Arnold or back away from him.

"You'll find someone more stable." Arnold secretly hoped not, so he could be her shining knight after all, but the majority of his heart sincerely wished for her happiness. "If nothing else, I learned at your party that you are now so well loved and you seem so happy. I truly hope that from that crowd you'll find a great love that will fill you with joy, see you for who you really are, and be there for you the way you deserve."

Helga stood as tall as she could and kept inhaling; puffing herself up. She was no longer crying, although her eyes were still lined with remaining tears. Arnold gathered her in to him one last time. He moved in for one last farewell kiss.

Abruptly, Helga turned her lips away from him and shoved him away from her. "Who said you could touch me, Dweeb?" Her voice was hard and sharp, like back in Elementary school. She refused to look at him.

"Helga-" He realized he hurt her, but he still didn't want to leave like this. It was a selfish request, but he wanted her to be alright with his decision. He wanted her to cry, give him one last kiss, and agree that it was for the best before drying her eyes and sending him on his way.

"You want to leave so badly? The door is right behind you, Arnoldo! So leave already! I'm so sick of looking at you!"

"Helga." He was wounded. Fair turn-about he supposed. He had hurt her and so it was only fair that she did the same. Didn't she realize that he was already in so much pain from letting her go?

Helga rammed him, knocking him off balance for a moment. She just kept shoving him; he had no choice but to stumble his way towards her bedroom door. He called out her name a few more times to try to calm her, but she seemed to get stronger with each try. When he was nearly body checked in to her bedroom door he finally headed out of her room on his own. He stood in the hallway and looked back at Helga. She no longer resembled his evening angel. All he saw was a nine-year-old with pigtails, a pink dress, and a unibrow. His lovelorn bully returned and stood menacingly at her bedroom door.

"Helga, hate me if you have to-"

"Sounds like a plan." She didn't bother listening to the last of Arnold's sentence. She slammed her bedroom door on him as hard as she could. The hallway walls shook with the violent close.

"Hey," the gruff voice of Helga's father shouted up the stairs, "Is there a problem up there?"

Arnold stared at the closed bedroom door and placed a gentle hand on it, as if trying to feel Helga through the wood. He whispered one last goodbye to Helga and turned to walk down the stairs.

Big Bob stood at the bottom of the staircase, his arms crossed. Arnold tried to avoid his gaze as he walked past.

"Is there something I should know?" Arnold tried to avoid the question, but felt the Pataki Death Glare that he had come to know so well.

"I have to get home, Mr. Pataki," Arnold slinked over to the front door, still avoiding Bob's staredown. "But don't worry; I'm sure you won't be seeing me again." With a heavy sigh Arnold opened the door and left.

The rest of his goodbyes were still sad, but they didn't leave as much of a bitter taste. He knew he would be seeing his grandparents and the boarders in a few months and Gerald was going to spend the summer with him.

He slid in to the back seat of the Packard with his mom and waved as his grandfather drove them to the airport. Arnold stared out the window and saw nothing as they drove through Hillwood. All he could see was a reflection of a crying Helga and his heart sank in to his stomach. He really did hope he did what was best for them; he hated to think he hurt Helga again if it wasn't for the Greater Good.

He wished he was what was best for her, but he knew better. He'd always love her, and he truly wanted her happy. He hoped that she would forgive him and find that happiness. He truly did.

But why couldn't he give her that happy ending?

****A/N: Gaaw, I'm so sorry Helga! Don't hate me or Arnold XP Just wait two more years and he'll randomly show up on your door after running ten miles to get to you!**

**For some reason this chapter felt like it was running long, but at the same time I couldn't really find anywhere to cut, so sorry about the pacing.  
The song this chapter is based on is Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" from "The Bodyguard". It is such a sweet song and says pretty much exactly what Arnold is thinking at this point. The trick was translating it into prose form. I did so much better with "Life After You" XP Please Con/Crit ^_^**

**OH! On that note, I added something to my profile a week ago: The Appreciation Circle! This section has all my love for my readers and reviewers. Check it out and see my big thank you! ^_^ There is also a link to my writing blog at the top of my profile, so check that out too for lengthier A/N as well as info about my progress with the next chapter!****


	5. Nobody Wants to be Lonely

****A/N: OK, so I have to be up for work in four hours and so I really should be asleep right now, but I was so close to completing this chapter I couldn't sleep until it was posted. So, tada! ^_^ And check me out, it only kept three weeks this time! I'm getting faster, booyah! ^_^ Actually, the whole process of sitting down, sketching out what I want to happen in this chapter, write it, proof it, and post it took me only three days. Not too shabby in my opinion.**

**Anyway, no Arnold in this chapter - I know, "awwwwww" *pouty face* However, it's time for the grand premiere of an important player in this tale! I just hope I did him justice XD I actually have a lot to say about this chapter - author's notes wise - so please check out my blog for the extended addition. The link is in my profile.**

**Now for the legal stuff: I do not own any part of the Hey Arnold franchise. All characters and places are the property of Nickelodeon and the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett.****

An awkward sixteen-year-old walked down the street with his guitar strapped to his back. He knew his route well, so well he could have walked it in his sleep. He had been traveling the same strips of road for the past decade, all to make his evening vigils. He had matured quite a bit over the years, and started to grow in to his own. He still wasn't the typical definition of handsome, but he had climbed out of the ranks of "geek" a few years back, so it was a start.

He had become tall and lanky – quickly losing the baby-fat gut he carried around in elementary school. He kept his hair short now with just a little bit of gel in it to keep a hint of his customary spikes. He even switched up his old coke-bottle glasses with a more stylish and sleek pair of oval-lenses. Everyone complemented him on how much better they fit the shape of his long face.

He had broken away from the "geek" mold when he was about fourteen and his classmates started throwing more and more co-ed parties. He started spinning to hide from awkward party conversation, but after Arnold's "Geek Party" in fourth grade his deejay skills were becoming more and more popular. Next thing he knew, he wasn't just a "must have" for all of the "cool" parties, but he was actually getting paid for his services. It was thanks to the generosity of such classmates as Rhonda Wellington Lloyd and Gerald Johanssen that he was able to buy the designer glasses. It was also thanks to spinning that he got his nickname – DJ BIK. He needed something cool and marketable, so why not use his initials? Brainy Isaac Kincaid – BIK had a nice hard sound to it and it was definitely cooler than his first name.

Before he knew it, Helga G. Pataki's brownstone came in to view. Knowing he was a few minutes from seeing the love of his life quickened his steps. With skills he developed over the years of stalking Helga, Brainy was able to easily climb up the tree planted in the public sidewalk outside her home. One of the branches was even worn from him sitting on it every night, just watching her in her room. Her image always inspired him, but he still couldn't find the words to say how much he cared.

Brainy steadied himself on his perch and swung his guitar to his front. Helga sat curled up on her bed, clutching her pillow tightly as she stared out her window. Brainy started playing the song he had written for her. It wasn't quite done yet, but he had no greater creative muse than the sight of her face.

Helga kept the lights off in her room. She didn't want the light to block her view of what few stars managed to twinkle among the city's luminescence. Besides, she was in no mood to have a bright environment engulf her. She liked the dark, and all it could hide. She heard the faint sound of a guitar outside her window. It was the same melody she heard every night for almost two months now – almost the entire time she's been single - again. The sad tune mimicked her own melancholy and that both infuriated and comforted her. She wished she knew which of her neighbors played the song, but even if she did know she wasn't sure if she would pound them to a pulp or request a copy for her to listen to all day. Unsure which of her conflicting feelings caused it, Helga gripped her pillow closer to her as she rested her head on it.

As Brainy delicately strummed on his tree branch he stared at Helga's window. Her face was all that was visible with the cloak of darkness hiding the rest of her. She didn't seem to be looking at anything, and he desperately wanted to give her something to focus on.

"Over here," he softly told her. He no longer wheezed as he talked. The heavy breathing problem was due to his sinuses, and even though he still needed a rescue inhaler every once in a while, for the most part his breathing was now fine. "Helga, look at me." Clearly she didn't hear him, or didn't wish to, because she kept glancing aimlessly at the sky. He was thoughtful enough to find a branch that was eye-level with her window, why wouldn't she just look his way? "See me," he pleaded and then looked away to check his fingering, "look at me." He hoped that their eyes would meet when he looked away from his guitar, but her eyes were still scanning the skyline.

Brainy was afraid that this second break up with Arnold really did Helga in. She no longer lamented Arnold, or gave her private soliloquies, or wrote poetry. Under normal circumstances Brainy would have been overjoyed that Helga seemed to have finally given up on the oblong-headed boy. This was different, though. It was as if Helga lost all of her passion. Arnold not only broke her heart, but broke her. She was wounded more than anyone could know - anyone besides the ever-attentive Brainy, of course.

Phoebe had a sense that something was wrong, but since her best friend didn't lash out in a whirlwind of destruction like last time, it was hard for Phoebe to pick up on the severity. Helga still kept her grades up in school and didn't seem to let the depression affect her classwork at all. She was just anti-social again, although she didn't revert to hurting or bullying anyone this time. She had sworn to herself that she'd never be that destructive again after breaking Brainy's nose.

The thought of the injury made Brainy brush the bridge just under his glasses. He wanted to jump in through her window, hold Helga close, and tell her to not feel guilty anymore. He was never angry with her when she hit him. At least she acknowledged that he was there. It may have been a bit masochistic, but he even liked getting beaten up by her – at least a little bit.

Helga stirred in her room, her thoughts broken. She started to scan the actual street-level, searching for something. Brainy realized he had stopped playing his song and wondered if that was what distracted her. As much as he wanted to start waving to her and hope she'd see him, he instead decided to start playing again. As soon as the notes passed through the glass of her window pane she seemed soothed. Her head again rested upon her pillow and her eyes drifted away from him.

"No," he again pleaded to her, "Don't look away."

She always seemed to avert her eyes from love lately. Brainy watched her – always hidden in the shadows – as the same four classmates approached her. While he deejayed at Helga's Sweet Sixteen party he saw each one of them try to slow dance with her: Iggy, Park, Robert, and Joe. He should have known better than to play a slow song in the first place. Watching her reject each one of them was bittersweet. Now in the months after the party, watching her still turn each one away was equally bittersweet. Brainy wasn't sure he could handle watching her date someone else again, but at the same time he didn't want to believe the inevitable truth: Helga G. Pataki was closed off to love. It was all or nothing, and Arnold was her all.

Brainy sat lost in thought, allowing his fingers to keep playing Helga's song in auto-pilot. If only he could show her that she didn't need Arnold. That he didn't deserve her dedication and passion. If only Helga could see that she could easily love someone else, someone who truly loved her back. He just needed a Grand Gesture to show her.

He was still awkward and shy, even with the DJ BIK make-over. He could never stutter out a sentence longer than five words. Half the time his sentences consisted of just verbs. How could someone so inarticulate possibly win over someone as poetic as Helga?

Without realizing what he did, Brainy's fingers stopped moving across the guitar neck and again Helga stirred. She seemed entranced by his melody and it pleased him to see her touched even on a subconscious level. Brainy smiled at the thought of his humble song moving her so intensely.

Suddenly, Brainy's eyes shot open wide as he realized his Grand Gesture. He softly apologized to an unknowing Helga for his visit being so short and for her to not hear more of the song. He then swung the guitar around to his back and scrambled down the tree. At Helga's front stoop Brainy stole one last glance at his broken angel and wished her good night. With a large grin he raced home to get everything ready.

* * *

Brainy looked at the classroom clock and tried to will the second hand to move faster. He didn't bother to pay attention to the teacher as the school day ticked to a close. Instead he played out every next movement in his head. He had to get the timing perfect for this to work.

Helga was currently in the chemistry lab on the second floor of their high school. Her locker was also on the second floor, but on the other side of the building. She also typically talked with Phoebe for a few minutes on Wednesdays before the little Asian-American girl rushed off for her Mathletes meetings after school. The whole ritual left Brainy with about ten minutes before Helga would reach the top of the main staircase leading towards the front doors.

His locker was only a few yards away from his last class of the day. With a good sprint he could get there in about five seconds flat. He made sure to re-enter the first three digits of his locker combination before heading towards class, and so he just needed a quick turn to the last number and his locker would swing open. That would take another five seconds. That left him with nearly the full ten minutes to pack up his stuff for home and gather his props.

That was the trick. It was hard enough shoving the boombox in to his skinny locker; it could be just as time consuming to pull it back out. Also, he didn't want to crunch up the poster board curled up in his locker, and so being delicate there could chew up more of his precious time. This had to be perfect.

As the second hand swung around the clock face one last time Brainy gathered up his belongings and readied himself for the sprint. He watched the long, thin, red clock hand as it dropped down to the six. Brainy slid half way out of his chair.

The loud buzz of the school bell shot through Brainy like a bang of a Starting Pistol. With a jolt, he was in his sprint out of the classroom and down the hall to his locker. Sliding to a halt in front of his locker he turned the combination lock one last time and whipped the locker door open. His books and homework were carelessly shoved in to his backpack and he dropped the filled bag to the floor with a thud.

Brainy then gingerly wiggled the rolled up collection of poster boards out of the locker and cautiously placed them on the floor between his legs, using his body to protect them from the students rushing through their lockers on either side of his.

Some more wiggling and pivoting finally dislodged the boombox from the bottom of his locker. He slung his backpack on one shoulder and picked up each of his props. With a quick backwards kick he slammed his locker door closed and snaked through the crowd of students, holding the poster boards high above his head to prevent anyone bumping and damaging them.

There was a large crowd of students at the base of the main stairwell and Brainy found it difficult to clear out the exact spot he needed. Mostly, it was the issue of clearing out Wolfgang and his lackeys. Wolfgang not only continued to harass the younger students, but also seemed to increase his bullying once he became an upper classman – throwing the status around as if it gave him special hazing privileges.

Luckily, Wolfgang's last party went from disaster to "party of the year" thanks to DJ BIK coming to the rescue, and so Wolfgang eventually vacated the spot after only throwing a few insults Brainy's way.

Brainy placed the boombox down, lowered the volume so only he could hear the music, and pressed play. Good, everything sounded great. Pleased with his sound check, Brainy stopped the music, raised the volume again, and checked his watch. Good, good, he was still running a little early. With a snap of the rubberband, the poster boards were unraveled and Brainy quickly rolled them in the opposite direction in order to straighten them out a little.

A buzzer on Brainy's watch went off. With a deep breath he turned off the alarm. Now or never. It was show time. He pressed play on his boombox and a soft, sad guitar strum erupted from the speakers. The melancholy melody filled the school's foyer and even stopped a few students mid-conversation. A crowd slowly formed a boarder around Brainy as he held up the unraveled poster boards above his head, aiming them so that they were visible from the top of the stairwell.

As Helga and Phoebe neared the staircase leading to the front of the school a haunting sound crept up the walls and echoed in Helga's ears. A lonely, sad guitar was barely audible over the roar of the crowd. Everyone was rushing home and no one else seemed to hear the song. Helga strained to listen to the soft notes and it didn't take her long to recognize it.

"Pheebs!" Helga started to sprint to the stairwell, "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" Phoebe rushed after her best friend, trying to pinpoint the exact noise Helga could possibly be excited about.

"The guitar! It's the same song I've been hearing outside my window every ni-" Helga abruptly stopped as she reached the top step. At the base of the staircase Brainy stood stoically holding up poster boards like cue cards. A recording of his song to Helga seeped out of the boombox by his feet. Even without her name mentioned she knew this was all for her. Helga couldn't remember how to make her lungs inhale.

Phoebe skidded to a halt behind her friend with a surprised and knowing, "oh!"

Students were whispering among themselves as a larger and larger crowd gathered around Brainy. Some students kept sprinting back and forth, relaying over what was written on the cue cards.

Unwavering, and on the verge of tears, Brainy stood tall and waited for Helga to finish reading.

"I know you don't want to be alone," the first poster board said. There was no fancy design, just a simple sentence written in a large, humble, black marker.

The next set of bars started and Brainy felt he had given Helga enough time to read. Carefully he loosened his grip so only the first cue card fell in front of his face. It slid forgotten across the floor. The rest of the cards remained in Brainy's hands and the second poster read "You have so much love to give."

Helga's eyes darted from Brainy's giant love notes to the student runners sprinting among the crowd to let everyone know what the second sign said. She wasn't exactly sure what was going on, nor was she sure if she wanted the attention it was bringing. Phoebe stepped to Helga's side and grabbed her left hand to help steady her.

The second sign was dropped and the third cue card told Helga "You know I've always been there." A large lump clogged her throat and her lungs shook as they struggled to remember how to function.

Nearly the full student body was gathered around the main staircase, and even some of the students that had already left were called by in by their classmates. Brainy ignored them all. He kept his focus on Helga and only Helga. Another card fell and the fourth poster board became visible.

"I know your darkest secrets."

Helga bolted upright. This was quickly becoming very creepy. Was Brainy trying to blackmail her? What on earth was he planning on doing? What was the point to all of this? Blood rushed to Helga's ears and she barely heard Phoebe gasp next to her, let alone hear the haunting guitar chords written specifically for her.

Brainy silently cursed as he saw Helga's reaction. Yup, she was reading the posters alright. He knew he shouldn't have left that sentence alone. As a quick qualifier, Brainy let the sign drop so Helga could read his next note.

"I love you because of them."

Just as Helga's lungs proudly figured out how to catch air again, it all escaped back out of her mouth. Feeling very light headed, Helga leaned against the stair banister and Phoebe held her up on the other side. Phoebe softly called out Helga's name to make sure she was alright. Helga mindlessly nodded that she wasn't going to faint – not yet anyway.

With another deep breath Brainy let another poster fall to the floor, gathering in a pool at his feet. He looked longingly up at Helga and waited for her next reaction.

"You know I'll never leave you"

Helga's eyes welled up. She knew that sentence too well. Sure, Brainy meant it as an oath of his own devotion, but how could she believe such a claim when the last man who promised her this left her twice? But at the same time she felt that it was just as sincere as when she promised Arnold she'd never leave him. Arnold. Her thoughts left the present and darted backwards in time, filling her mind with images of Arnold. It always was Arnold, and Helga thought it would always be Arnold. But, but Brainy-

Right on cue, Brainy dropped the poster board and held up his last sign. His plea to Helga: "Pick Me."

How? How could Helga pick Brainy when her heart still so fully belonged to Arnold? How could Brainy even love her after everything she put him through? She had bashed his face in on a daily basis for ten years; she then broke his nose, and proceeded to ignore him for the past three years – except for requesting DJ BIK to spin at her Sweet Sixteen party. She had abused and rejected him for nearly their entire lives, and yet he loved her. He knew how deeply and passionately she loved another man and yet he kept a candle burning for her.

Wait a minute! Clearly the "dark secrets" he was referencing were her poems, laments, and soliloquies about her unrequited love for Arnold, and yet he claims he loves her because of that? Her unfailing passion for Arnold was why Brainy loved her? Flashes of San Lorenzo flew through her mind. Even after all of her abuse, even after throwing him overboard and in to the jungle rivers, even when he could have easily kicked her when she was down, Brainy was the one who reminded her who she was, who she loved, and why she needed to fight. He was the one that brought her back to reality, snapped her out of her jungle funk. He was the compass leading her back to Arnold.

Brainy truly knew Helga's dark, seedy underbelly, as well as the soft, mushy center she tried so hard to hide. He knew her like no one else, and yet he always stood aside and let Helga love Arnold instead. He truly only wanted Helga to be happy; even if he wasn't the one bringing her that joy.

She stared at that large "Pick Me" sign above the statuesque Brainy; his beautiful melody that he played for her every night swallowing her whole. He had waited for her to be ready to love him back. He went through torture for the better part of his life just so he could hold her. She knew that pain all too well. How could she reject him?

With tear-filled eyes, Helga whipped her gaze away from the scene below the stairwell and instead focused on her best friend's face. With a small smile and a gentle nod Phoebe let go of Helga. The stairs seemed intangible under Helga's feet. She couldn't even remember placing one toe on them as she flew down the steps. Brainy kept getting larger and larger as she neared him, and before his song could end her arms were wrapped tightly around his back.

Helga was like a blur as she sprinted down the stairs, skipping steps as she ran. She tackled Brainy so hard his cue card flew out of his hands and he nearly tripped over his boombox. Somehow he managed to keep his balance, but it still kept him a minute to register what was happening. Helga's warm body was pressed against his, her soft arms wrapped tightly around him, small tear drops started to seep through his shirt. She was so warm he couldn't help but melt around her, his head gently resting on top of hers and his arms wrapped around her shoulders and squeezing hard. The crowd cheered around them.

The moment was too brief. Just as everyone started cheering a booming, female voice cried out, "What is going on here?" The crowd scattered and just as abruptly Helga pushed away from Brainy. Dazed, Brainy glanced around, wondering where the gunshot came from that frightened his deer away.

A group of teachers dispersed the students, sending them home. Standing in front of Brainy was the school principal, Ms. Jessica Wilson. She was the type of thirty-something, take charge woman that high school boys seemed to fantasize about. She was stern and a bit scary, but also fair.

"Kincaid. Pataki. Care to explain why my whole student body is congregating here instead of heading home?" The woman had a stare that made you imagine lasers drilling in to your very soul.

Helga seemed just as scared at first, but when she glanced over at Brainy she turned hard and cold. "Pfft. I had nothing to do with this." Before waiting to be dismissed she shrugged her backpack on to her shoulder and huffed out the front door of the school.

The principal's glare focused on Brainy, "Well, Kincaid. Want to tell me what you were doing?"

Brainy bashfully looked at the poster boards scattered around him and the boombox playing dead air as the recording ended. "Uh-" He gave an awkward laugh that sounded more like a heavy sigh, "Nothing?"

Ms. Wilson squinted hard at Brainy, sending a chill across his back. "Clean up and head home, Mr. Kincaid."

"Yes, Ma'am." Brainy nodded and averted his eyes. When the shadow of the principal passed to help disperse the rest of the students Brainy turned to pick up the failed love notes.

Forgetting Mathletes completely, Phoebe sprinted down the stairs. She wanted to chase after Helga to find out what just happened, but she knew better than to prod her now. Helga needed time to figure things out and Phoebe would just get her head snapped off if she tried talking to Helga before she was ready. Instead she turned towards the defeated Brainy.

"It was a lovely gesture," she softly told him as she helped pick up the cue cards. Brainy blushed his response and focused his attention on the poster boards. Phoebe picked up another card. "I'm sure it was just too overwhelming for her. Give it time." Brainy rushed to pick up the last of his props, nodding his acknowledgement of Phoebe's consoling. Without a word Brainy swung his backpack on, picked up his boombox, and sprinted out the door.

Brainy tried not to focus on his failed declaration of love as he walked home. Phoebe was right, he probably just overwhelmed Helga. She had sprinted down the stairs and hugged him – practically tackled him to the floor – so she must feel something romantic for him. But the instant the magic was broken she pushed him away, embarrassed and angry, and stormed off. Maybe she didn't like him, maybe she just saw herself in him, her own pain in his, and that was the only reason she hugged him. Then again, she used to be just as cold and mean towards Arnold and Brainy knew the truth, so maybe she really does like him and is putting up her old elementary front. On the other hand, the only reason she put up the front was to protect herself from rejection and ridicule. Not only did she know that Brainy was clearly not going to reject her, but the whole student body cheered her for hugging him, so why would she need the front now? Did that mean she really didn't care for him romantically?

Brainy was driving himself insane trying to decipher Helga. He just wanted to scream and throw something. What was he going to do now? He ruined everything. A dumpster tucked inside a narrow alleyway caught his eye. With a loud grunt he slammed the dumpster lid open. Angrily, he tore the posters apart and shoved them in to the dumpster, pushing them as far down in to the container as he could. As tears lined his eyes he shut his lids tightly to scatter the water. He punched the side of the can with all his strength, the blunt sting of the metal crashing on to his hand shot up his arm. Brainy kicked the dumpster instead. And again. And again. Brainy wasn't entirely sure what the garbage can did, but he was sure it deserved a beat down, and he was planning on doing just that.

Out of breath from his raging against the garbage can, Brainy collapsed against the opposing wall. With one hand he shook his rescue inhaler, and with the other he lazily threw rocks at the dented metal of the dumpster.

* * *

Helga shoved herself away from her desk. She couldn't concentrate on anything. Stupid Brainy, she had an important test the next day and she couldn't study because she was too distracted by his stupid love confession. This was crazy. How did Brainy of all people get under her skin? This was Brainy! This was the annoying dweeb that used to frustrate her to no end with his incessant breathing. She didn't need him. She didn't need any man. Not anymore. She went through enough with Arnold. She wasn't getting suckered in to love again. No sir.

Every limb twitched. She was so tense, she just needed to move. She just could not sit still. Stupid Brainy. Sure, he got cuter. Sure, his breathing wasn't really annoying anymore. Sure, he's actually been a good friend. Sure.

She needed to get him out of her head. She needed something to calm her down, block out her thoughts so she could just start over and study for her damn test. Helga walked over to her window and wished to hear the guitar that had serenated her for the past two months. The haunting song always drowned out her thoughts and she could just sit and focus on nothing. It was a great way to just disconnect for a little bit. But now what? She knew that Brainy wrote that song, that he used to creep outside her window to play it every night, and that he was probably never going to-

Familiar notes broke Helga's train of thought. Had she really wished for Brainy's song so hard that it manifested on its own? She threw the window open and poked her head out of it, searching desperately for the source. Down on Helga's front stoop, sitting on the cement banister running up her stairs, was Brainy staring up at her window as he played his guitar.

"Brainy!" Helga called down to him, but just as she did the front door swung open. The guitar notes scratched as Brainy jumped, falling off the stairs. Looming in the open front door was Big Bob, nostrils flaring.

"Hey," Bob's gruff voice echoed off the neighboring homes, "I don't want any damn door-to-door minstrels on my property! I'm trying to watch The Wheel here!" Brainy quickly glanced up at Helga, pleading for her to help. "Don't look at my daughter, you creep! Get the hell out of here!" Bob took a step forward and swung at Brainy. The lanky teen ducked and sprinted away from the blue-bricked brownstone.

Horrified, Helga shut her window again and sprinted out of her room. She yelled at her father as she raced by him. He just grumbled more about missing his TV show and shrugged Helga's yelling off. She jumped over the cement banister of her front stoop and sprinted in the direction Brainy had run off in.

Luckily, Brainy stopped running once he was a block away from Helga's home. She was able to catch up to him easily enough. She called out his name; it kept three tries before he finally heard her and stopped.

He wouldn't look at her, and he blushed so severely they both assumed bacon could be cooked on his cheeks.

"Brainy, I'm sorry," Helga huffed as she tried to catch her breath, "I'm so sorry." He shuffled his foot, grinding his toe in some cement that chipped off the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry for my dad back there. That was so rude." Helga started blushing herself, "And sorry for back at school. I was incredibly rude. I guess it's the Pataki genes." Brainy still wouldn't look at her, but he did steal a few quick glances, just to judge how angry she could be about his Grand Gesture. Suddenly Helga felt like she had so much more to apologize for.

"I'm sorry for hitting you all those years. And for breaking your nose three years ago." She started to awkwardly shuffle her feet as well, her right arm reaching across her back to rub her left elbow. "I'm sorry I abused you so much, and ignored you. It wasn't right. I was just so angry all the time and you were always right there, and that stupid breathing annoyed me-" This apology wasn't coming out right. "I mean, you're right. You were always there and knew every bit of me and loved me anyway. I'm sorry I put you through so much. After what Arnold did to me I should have known I was doing the same thing to you, and I'm sorry for that too. I'm just so sorry that I've wronged you so much. I've wronged you and you still stood by me."

Brainy stopped grinding the cement and straightened up a little. When he finally had the courage to look at Helga it was her eyes that were averted. She was too ashamed at what she had done to look at him. "I don't deserve your kindness," she softly said.

With one last "I'm sorry" Helga turned to walk away. She had said her peace, perhaps now she could concentrate on her schoolwork. As she took her first step a deep voice stopped her. "Love me," was all Brainy said. Just as his simple "pick me" sentence had thrown her off-steady earlier, Brainy's two-word sentence again shifted Helga off-balance.

"I'll be your Arnold." Brainy's voice tugged at her ears, begging her to turn back towards him. All the words managed to do was freeze Helga where she stood.

"Write me poetry. Carry my picture." He took a step towards Helga with each sentence. "Make Brainy shrines." That last one got her. Helga abruptly whipped back around and stared wide-eyed at him. He cupped her hand in his own and looked in those large, blue eyes. "Love me instead. Let me inspire you."

Helga opened her mouth to respond, but no sound would come out, no matter how hard she tried. She gripped Brainy's hand hard and abruptly let go, sliding it away from him. With a shake of her head she dislodged her voice, "Brainy, I can't. I just can't."

She turned away from him and started walking home again.

"Don't walk away!" Brainy shouted at her with a passion she never before heard in his monotone voice. Even when he was just begging her to write him poetry his voice kept its normal single pitch. It was the passion in his voice that stopped her. Before the shock of his tone could subside, Brainy grabbed Helga's waist with his left hand and her head with his right. In a swift motion he brought her in to him and kissed her.

A new wave of bewilderment crashed on to Helga. Arnold's lips were the only ones she's kissed. The only ones she ever wanted to kiss. The only lips she ever wanted to know. She could have died happily only feeling Arnold's lips pressed against hers. And yet, here were Brainy's lips – foreign and invading. Her brain started malfunctioning as it tried to register this new sensation.

Helga knew that there was no way anyone else's lips could taste or feel like Arnold's. She knew that she wouldn't have the same sensation kissing anyone else. So the fact that Brainy's kiss was so different was expected, and yet the difference was overwhelming at the same time. Arnold was always gentle, soft, quick pecks. Tender moments. His love and sweetness were wrapped in his soft, full lips. Brainy's lips were still soft, but they were thin, and lined with day-old stubble. The stubble looked good on the teenager, but the feel of his facial hair brush against her was weird, yet fun. His kiss wasn't tender and quick, it was forceful and passionate, with a lifetime's worth of longing and urge built up behind it. It was dramatically different from Arnold's kisses, dramatically different from what Helga expected from shy little Brainy. And yet it felt familiar and natural. There was something about his kiss that felt like home.

The passion. Brainy felt the same longing and urge as Helga did. He knew how much it burned to want to hold and kiss someone who was just out of reach. He knew that desire to touch someone you can't have and how it physically pains you. He experienced every emotion Helga did and as passionately as she did – in his own way. Helga now knew how her own kisses tasted like. She now knew how Arnold felt on the top of that Future Tech Industries building seven years ago.

Out of breath and desperately trying to control his lungs without ruining the moment with his inhaler, Brainy slowly pulled away from Helga. A warmth like hot soup on a cold winter day rushed over her, followed by a quick chill across her back. Her body tingled and ached for more contact. Brainy bashfully looked in to Helga's still shocked eyes, waiting for her to respond to him. He had his moment of glory; he knew how she felt and how she tasted. He could hold on to that memory forever, but he wished he could do it all over again whenever he wanted. He had poured out his heart the best way he knew how. He just needed her to let him love her.

Helga stared back at Brainy. A man she never imagined embracing. A man she never imagined herself wanting another kiss from. A man she never foresaw herself yearning for. And yet, that kiss, that passion, that beautiful song. All of it reminded her so much of herself, of her own pain and torment over the years. They were two sides of the same coin. How could she walk away from him?

So she closed her eyes and kissed him back.

****A/N: Ok. let the flaming begin! I know, I know, Helga and Brainy XD But we all knew it would come to this at some point! Funny thing is, I'm a hard-core HelgaxArnold shipper and yet even I am preferring Brainy right now... that can't be good XD I'm also really nervous about staying IC with Brainy. His personality was never really built up in the series and so I hope everything I did here at least FEELS canon. I think the main thing was keeping him the man-of-little-words type. Also, I was nervous about having him be so forward the entire time, but I feel that is canon too. I mean, he DID propose to Helga in an alleyway when they were nine and placed his head on her lap when they sat on the bus in "Phoebe Breaks a Leg". I think the creeper is a fairly forward guy, but that might just be me.**

**Brainy's a key player here, and so if there are any suggestions on how to make him feel more "realistic" or "canon" or whatever, please be sure to let me know. Any and all con/crit about the story is welcome - it makes me a better writer for you! Also, again check my profile for that link to my blog for more in-depth author's notes.**

**Finally, the music. The song this chapter is based off of is Ricky Martin's "Nobody Wants to be Lonely" - something about the line "here I stand in the shadows" just screamed out "Brainy" to me XD. Anyway, even though the song is best known for Martin's duet with Christina Aquilera, I was inspired by the version he sang solo. It seems more sorrowful somehow, plus it emphasises the fact ****that he wants to convince her that they should be together, whereas the duet makes them seem like star-crossed lovers. Also, Brainy's acoustic for Helga was inspired by the song "Emotional Song" by Daniel Cripps. His song can be found on YouTube, downloaded for free off of his website, and I have a link in my blog! ^_^**

**Alright, one last thank you to my readers and plea for reviews. I'm exhausted and REAAAALLY need to get some sleep! Night all! ^_^****


	6. Just the Way You Are

****A/N: Well, it is a pathetic return from my hiatus. I'm still working on my fan interpretation of The Jungle Movie script. I'm getting bombarded at work. And I wasn't really inspired for this chapter. I LOVE the song it's based on, but it didn't lend itself to prose as easily as I thought. Plus, it's actually pretty hard for me to picture how these two would be together... Anyway, I'm sorry this chapter took so long to write, and it's not even that long! Shortest chapter so far! But I've had multiple brainstorms for the next chapter, so we'll see how that turns out! ^_^ I'm just glad I posted this story before midnight so that I wasn't lying when I said a new chapter would be up in May!**

**Legal stuff now: I do not own or claim to own any of the Hey Arnold franchise. The characters and locations portrayed remain the property of Nickelodeon and the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett.****

Helga released a screechy, primal scream as she slammed the front door behind her. Brainy cautiously re-opened the door and poked his head in.

"That-that-that…" Helga mumbled to herself as she stomped around the hallway, kicking her high heels across the floor.

"Helga?" Brainy inched in to the Pataki home and gently closed the door behind him.

"…that, insensitive, idiotic, rude bimbo!" Helga stormed off in to the family's trophy room and collapsed on to the couch. Brainy crept around the corner and carefully walked in to the room behind her, making sure she didn't have anything heavy within arm's reach.

"Helga?"

"I just can't believe, after all these years I'm still being-" her eyes widened as she realized what room she picked. Surrounding her were all of the trophies her "perfect" older sister Olga had won over her overachieving youth. With another scream Helga picked up a throw pillow and tossed it at one of the shelves, knocking over a few of the trophies.

"Helga!" Brainy rushed over to her and grabbed her shoulders.

"Get off me!" Helga struggled against his hands, but he just pulled her in to him.

"It's alright, Helga, it's alright."

Brainy felt like all of Helga's stress was because of him. He was the one that suggested that stupid restaurant in the first place, but how was he supposed to know it was one of Olga's favorites? Worst yet, how was he supposed to know that Olga routinely showed off Helga's picture to the staff?

* * *

The hostess showed Helga and Brainy to their booth and handed them their menus. They barely had to wait ten minutes before their waitress Clarisse showed up to take their drink orders. Once Clarisse left, Helga turned to her date and complimented him on his restaurant choice. However, Brainy caught Clarisse continuously glancing back at their table with a confused look on her face.

Clarisse delivered their drinks a lot faster than Brainy had ever witnessed at any other restaurant. Thinking it was just expert service, Brainy beamed about his superb choice for dinner. It kept him a moment to realize that Clarisse hadn't left.

Helga shifted in her chair, uneasy with Clarisse staring at her the same way Nadine would watch her butterflies as they broke out of their cocoons. Clarisse wasn't even attempting to hide her curious expression. Helga glanced over at Brainy with a "do something" look. All he could think to do was clear his throat.

Snapping her out of her hypnotic daze, Clarisse blurted out, "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Helga's face twisted in confusion, "Crimeny! How the heck am I supposed to know that?"

The two women stared at each other with cocked heads, equally baffled. "You just look so familiar to me," Clarisse continued, "do you come here often?"

"Uh, no, this is my first time here." Helga tried to ignore the odd waitress and asked Brainy if he knew what he wanted to eat.

"This is just gonna bug me! How do I know you?" Clarisse placed a hand on her hip and the other hand on the table. Helga again shifted in her chair and continued talking to Brainy about their possible order.

Clarisse abruptly stood straight up and snapped her fingers, "Olga Pataki!"

Helga's eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard, "What?"

"Yeah, yeah. I remember now, you're Olga's little sister, right?"

Helga squeezed her eyes shut and let out a long sigh, "Nope, never heard of this Olga chick."

Clarisse started laughing as if Helga told the world's greatest punchline. She turned to her left and waved down another waitress, "Hey, Julie, come here!"

Julie apologized to her table and politely bowed away. With a quickened walk she hurried over to Clarisse. "What is it?" Julie hissed, a little mad that Clarisse was so unprofessional. Helga again attempted to ignore Clarisse by verifying that she and Brainy were ready to place their dinner order.

"Does she look familiar to you?" Clarisse blatantly pointed to Helga.

Julie squinted, "Well, now that you mention it."

With another sigh and an eye-roll Helga attempted to place her order. Neither waitress bothered to write it down.

"I think I know her from a picture I saw somewhere," Julie finally stated. Clarisse nodded vigorously.

"Picture?" Helga choked on her voice. Olga had been showing these ladies her picture? Helga again shot Brainy a "do something" look.

Brainy awkwardly mumbled an "excuse me" and a "we'd like to order now" but the ladies ignored him. Defeated, he sunk in his chair, shrugging at Helga.

"O-M-G!" Now Julie bolted upright, "Olga Pataki, right?" Helga groaned and slammed her head on the table. "Yeah, that has to be it," Julie continued. The new waitress elegantly kicked a foot back and pulled her arms close to her chest, nuzzling her interlocked fingers against her chin. In a voice that imitated Olga without mocking her, Julie stated "…and this is my darling Baby Sister" and then pretended to hold up a picture.

Without picking her face off the table Helga mumbled, "We would really like to order now!"

The waitresses kept talking among themselves. Clarisse turned towards Helga with her curious face again, "I always thought it was just a bad picture, but she really doesn't look like Olga, does she?"

Helga lifted her head off the table and glared at Clarisse. "Is there someone here who could take our order?"

"Yeah," chimed in Julie, "I would have thought Olga's sister would be prettier."

Helga's eyes grew wide again and Brainy tried to grab a hold of Helga's arm to attempt to calm her.

"Yo! Bucko!" Helga slammed her fist against the table. The waitresses jumped. "Do either of you want any type of tip tonight?" The waitresses looked at each other and then back to Helga. "Good, so maybe one of you could take our order? Tonight?"

"She's not as polite as Olga either," Clarisse stated. Helga bit her lower lip and clenched her fists. Brainy could almost hear her count in her head.

"So," Julie asked, "how does it feel to have such a beautiful, intelligent, and successful older sister to look up to?"

"Uh, ladies-" Brainy tried to redirect the waitresses as Helga's face started to grow red.

"She's just so wonderful; I don't think anyone dislikes your sister!" Clarisse wasn't getting the hint. Helga's hand shook as she reached for her glass.

"She's always such a treat when she comes in," agreed Julie, "everyone wants to wait on her. She has just the greatest stories to tell!"

"Helga?" Brainy watched in horror as Helga's fingers finally wrapped around her glass and in a swift movement, splashed it at just the right angle to hit both waitresses in the face. They both jumped back and squealed. Everyone in the restaurant stopped their conversations and watched them.

Helga slid out of the booth and stared them down. "Here's your tip: get some manners!" Dropping the glass on to the floor with a clink, Helga dramatically turned and headed towards the door. Brainy sheepishly slid out of the booth and chased after her.

As she stormed home Helga's updo started to fall. Most of it was still in place, but just a few strands came loose. Somehow, she looked even better with these wild tresses. Impassioned by her furry, Helga's eyes blazed so brightly they could outshine the brightest star. Her angered stomping in her high heels made her sundress sway against her hips and she looked like a sexy runway model fiercely strutting on a catwalk. Brainy smiled as he followed her home from a safe distance.

* * *

As beautiful as Helga looked when she was angry, Brainy still felt responsible for her being upset and the guilt slid the smile back off of his face. He'd have to remember to tell Helga how beautiful she is once she calmed down again.

"I hate Olga," Helga's words were muffled in Brainy's shirt as he kept her close. He loosened his grip and she collapsed on to the couch again. Brainy sat down next to her and gave her a "do you really?" look.

Helga looked at the remaining untouched shelves and wished she still had her shoes to throw at the trophies. Why did Miriam only have one throw pillow on this couch anyway? Helga then wondered how much damage her bra could do.

Helga's thoughts were broken as Brainy kissed her on the neck. When she turned to him he had an awkward smile. She gave him a half-hearted one in return.

"Sorry about the restaurant," she sighed. She really wasn't sorry for what she did. Considering the situation, Helga felt that she remained calm for a reasonable amount of time. However, she couldn't help thinking about what Arnold's reaction would have been. Justified or not, what she did would have embarrassed him. If her outburst would have embarrassed Arnold, Helga figured she had embarrassed Brainy and that was what she was apologizing for.

Brainy shrugged, "They deserved it." Helga was confused by his calm demeanor. She could have sworn that she was going to get some sort of lecture about doing the right thing and keeping her temper. Arnold would have shaken his head and advised her to go back and apologize to the waitresses.

Brainy's loving look never faded. He was truly alright with what she did, even if it may have embarrassed him. Her smile grew, but remained sad. She couldn't help but replay the whole incident in her mind.

Brainy pulled her head in towards his and he kissed her on the forehead, reassuringly. Helga pivoted in her seat so she could curl up in Brainy's arms, her head on his shoulder.

"I honestly don't know how you put up with me," she softly stated, not even looking at him. She let the sentence linger in the air for a moment before finally turning towards her date for an answer.

Brainy looked baffled by her confusion. He never felt like he ever had to "put up" with Helga G. Pataki. He was finally holding her in his arms and kissing her skin, this was a dream come true. He'd take any and every minute with her.

"I'm still so rough around the edges," she seemed to clarify her statement, "and I'm not so sure I want to be polished off, ya know? I'm not girly and I like that. I'm just- I'm happy with who I am." She paused for a moment, "but I'm surprised someone else is, I guess."

"Why? I always was," Brainy smiled and kissed her on the forehead again, which lead to a gentle kiss on her lips. After the quick peck, he went back in to taste her vanilla chapstick some more. Every touch of her soft, full lips sent a warm chill through him and his heart would hiccup. He loved that feeling and as soon as their lips parted he'd pull her back in again. If it were up to him the make-out session would last until the sun came up again.

Helga, on the other hand, had more on her mind and kissing wasn't solving anything. After about five minutes she finally placed a hand on Brainy's chest and pushed herself away. She kept herself at arm's length and just stared at him.

Even after her family life improved over the years, she still didn't feel accepted at home. Lord knows the three of them attempted to show Helga more attention and love – in their own special way, but at times it felt forced. If her own family couldn't truly love her for who she was, and if Arnold – the man she thought she was destined to be with – couldn't handle her the way she was, how is it that Brainy saw perfection?

"What did I do to deserve you, Brainy Isaac Kincaid?" Helga gave him a soft, unsure smile.

"Stay true to yourself," he replied with a shrug as if it was an obvious answer.

"Oh yeah, me being 'Miss Tough-guy' really worked out for you," Helga sarcastically agreed. She curled back out of his arms and knelt beside him on the couch, facing him.

He gave another shrug, "Eh, you're passionate."

"Obviously," Helga again sarcastically agreed, "one has to be passionate in order to kick a kid's ass every day."

"You won't let anyone change you," his love for her flashed behind his eyes as he brushed one of her fallen locks of hair out of her face.

"I'm not so sure that's such a good thing." True, Helga did like who she was. True, she resented Arnold for trying to change her. However, there were still things she was ashamed of, like being such a bully as a kid. What if she wasn't so stubborn? What if she actually allowed Arnold or Phoebe or even Olga to help better herself? Maybe she wouldn't have been such an angry child.

Suddenly, Helga's face was cloaked in sadness again as she stared at Brainy. Concern filled his eyes, which made matters worse.

"Helga?"

She ran a hand down his jaw line, soft and slowly like a mother tracing the face of her baby boy. She gave a heavy, labored sigh.

"How many times did I whale on you while growing up?"

Brainy's eyes rolled up towards the ceiling and he pursed his lips, actually attempting to count the many times she caught him listening in on her soliloquies about Arnold.

Helga cocked an eyebrow, "That was rhetorical."

Brainy sheepishly laughed as he stopped calculating.

"Seriously, though, how is it possible that you still loved me with all the abuse I gave you growing up?"

With a shrug Brainy replied, "Masochistic?"

Shaking her head, Helga gave a soft "oh Brainy" laugh. The two then stared at each other for a moment. Helga seemed to really be concentrating on something as she stared in to his eyes. She reached up and slowly removed his glasses, folding them on to her lap. She then delicately touched the bridge of his nose right between the eyes, where she backhanded him on just about a daily basis. He closed his eyes at her touch.

She cupped the side of his face with her right hand, holding his head in place as she inched her lips closer to his skin. "I'm so sorry I broke your nose in eighth grade." She kissed him where she cracked the bridge.

Brainy chuckled a little, "It's alright."

Helga leaned back, "How can you be so OK with me pounding you?"

"No more wheezing." Brainy tapped the side of his nose and breathed in noisily, to prove that his sinuses were fixed due to his nose being broken.

"I really don't deserve you," Helga gave him a quick peck on the lips. With Arnold she couldn't get enough of his taste. She would nearly suffocate the poor boy as they made out. With Brainy, she didn't need to be so dramatically passionate. A simple kiss was still enough to send chills. Sometimes less really was more.

Brainy shook his head as she pulled away, "Other way around."

"I think I pounded you one too many times. You have to have something wrong in your head."

Brainy chuckled and shook his head again. Helga also chuckled a little. Inspired, Brainy started making faces like he was crazy, or brain-dead.

"See? I knew I conked you a little too hard!" Helga opened up and fully laughed. She laughed so hard she lost her breath and inhaled in a loud squeak. With a gasp she covered her mouth, embarrassed. Helga used to love her little evil laugh as a child, but as a teen she couldn't stand her new, hardy laugh. She thought she sounded too much like her father. On the other hand, Brainy thought the laugh was adorable. It was nice to hear her truly laugh, and there was something about her gasping squeak that turned him on.

"So sexy," Brainy wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back in to him.

"Clearly you need these more than I thought," Helga leaned back to delicately place Brainy's glasses back on his face.

He blinked a few times to readjust to the fact that he wasn't seeing blurry shapes anymore. He then smiled and again attempted to pull Helga close.

"Ah, much sexier," he smirked.

Helga giggled a little and submitted to his kiss, 'You're an idiot."

"Stupid in love?" Brainy bounced his eyebrows seductively.

"Nah, just stupid."

Brainy stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes.

"I mean, don't you wish that I was prettier?"

Brainy shook his head, "Not possible"

"Uh, huh," Helga cocked an eyebrow, "What about smarter?"

"Smartest person I know." He gave Helga a goofy grin.

"Ri-ight," she drew out the word, "What about fashionable?"

"I love your style," Brainy gave a Vanna White hand gesture to her sundress.

"Oh, come on! What about being more popular?"

Brainy crossed his arms, "What are you doing?"

"What?" Helga pouted again. Scorn taking it's normal residence across her face.

"Stop comparing yourself."

"I have no clue what you're talking about." Helga crossed her arms to mimic Brainy.

He leaned in so their noses were barely an inch away from each other, "You're not Olga."

"Well, doi, glasses boy! That's my point!"

"Same here!" He placed a hand on each side of her face to make sure she was truly looking at him. "I'm dating you."

"Well, again, doi!" Helga rolled her eyes.

"Not Olga." He punctuated each word with the same passion that stopped Helga in her tracks the day Brainy confessed his love, "Don't want her."

Helga melted between Brainy's hands, "But why not? Everyone else friggen does!"

Brainy kissed her, "You're perfect; she's not."

Helga wasn't sure she ever heard someone else state that Olga wasn't perfect. Let alone the fact that someone thought she was. Brainy had to have fallen off his rocker to think so, but Helga was done fishing for complements. Her insecurities were put at bay for the night.

"Well, you're pretty perfect yourself, bucko." She smiled, "And thank you so much for waiting for me. It must not have been easy." After waiting for Arnold practically her whole life, Helga knew all too well how painful it must have been for Brainy to wait for Helga to turn to him.

With a smile Brainy guided Helga's head down to his shoulder so she was snuggled on to his chest again. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. With another kiss on her forehead Brainy finally replied, "I'd wait until our next lifetime."

Helga's eyes grew wide and she looked up at him. Her face softened and a sweet smile crept across her lips. Running a hand through the fallen tresses of Helga's updo, Brainy added, "That is, if I had to."

Helga pulled him in for one more kiss, "You don't."

****A/N: I feel like I'm all over the map with Helga here, and Brainy's friggen hard to write while keeping his dialogue in 5-words-or-less sentences! I needed to showcase that Brainy is great for Helga, but in a different way than how Arnold is great for Helga, this way the choice is harder because they both love her greatly, but differently. She needs to decide which type of love she needs more. IDK, I hope it came across alright. I'm probably going to go back and re-edit this chapter about 5 more times... So please review to help me out! ^_^ Pwease!**

**The chapter is based off of Bruno Mars' song "Just the Way You Are" (3 3 3 this song!). I also updated my Appreciation Circle to include some new buddies off of the "Unofficial Hey Arnold Forum" great place, check it out! Also, check out my blog for chapter updates and lengthier author's notes (wait? They can get longer than this!)**

**Love you guys! Thanks for staying loyal!****


	7. Haunting Me

****A/N: Holy Hand Grenades! Check this out! Is... is this... is this an actual CHAPTER! And it's before June (barely) which means it's within a year of my last update! Still pathetic, I know. So I want to start off by thanking every last one of you that came back. I've been working diligently with my writing since the start of 2012 and I hope to get a rhythm going so my updates don't take so insanely long anymore. I also worked solely on this chapter instead of my script during Script Frenzy... so now I only have 13 days to write a 100 page script instead of the normal 30! Sheesh!**

**Anyway, I've been thinking about this chapter pretty much ever since I started the story back in August of 2010. I had it roughly figured out since last December. And I've been working on the actual writing on it since about Valentine's day! This is a BEAST of a chapter that clocks in at 24 pages and 14,575 words!**

**Essentially, I tried to make up for the hiatus by writing you guys 8 mini-chapters plus an epilogue. I hope my olive branch appeases you all!**

**I'd also like to give a super duper huge thank you to ChibiSunnie who was my beta and my drive. Who knows how long this chapter would have taken if she wasn't there to cheer and coach me through it! Big huggles to Chibi!**

**Finally, the legal stuff: ****Hey Arnold! and its franchise are owned by Nickelodeon and remain the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett. I do not own any of the used characters or locations. But I hope you enjoy anyway!****

**HAUNTING ME**

"Oh for Christ sake, it's just a store!"

Arnold awkwardly stood in the crowded Middlerose mall. He and his friend Marco both leaned against the second-story railing, pressing themselves as far away from the storefront as possible. Their friend Hank stood by the store's window, tapping his foot impatiently. A mannequin wearing only a bra and panties was posed behind him.

Hank was six-foot-two and seemed to tower over Arnold's five-foot-ten frame. Being on the basketball team, Hank wanted to keep his hair out of his face; so he kept his brunette locks cut close to his head, but still long enough that he can spike them up with about a gallon of hair gel. Arnold sometimes joked that he looked like a hedgehog. However, Arnold did have to give Hank credit for not being one of those posers that bleached their tips.

It was because of Hank's girlfriend Beverly that they were currently stalled outside Vanessa's Boudoir. Prom was two weeks away and Hank wanted to get Beverly something nice to wear for after the big event. He was going to put all those years of watching the Vanessa's Boudoir fashion show on TV to good use. He already knew the basic style he wanted Beverly to wear. Since the guys were hitting up the mall anyway, Hank decided it would be the best time to make his purchase.

Arnold was prepared for graduating in a few weeks. He was prepared to go to college. He was prepared to live on his own for the first time. He was prepared to be far from all of his friends and loved ones. He was not prepared to go lingerie shopping. Especially not with another guy.

Their friend Marco was even less prepared. The poor third-generation Puerto Rican-American was one of the most socially awkward guys Arnold knew. He kept his hair kind of long and scraggly. He rarely combed it, and allowed it to fall wherever it wanted – which typically included in his eyes. He also kept some stubble across his chin and lip in a lazy attempt at a goatee. While Hank was stylish and popular, Marco was uncaring – throwing on whatever felt comfortable, which was typically worn-through jeans, a baggy t-shirt, and the occasional zip-down hoodie when it was cold out.

When it came to women, Marco was the farthest from "having game". He had difficulties talking with girls on a social level, let alone look them in the eyes. With his shy hunch it was hard to believe Marco was five-foot-six. Half the time the girls around Marco appeared like they were looking right over his head. Although Marco did have a voice on him when the guys were out messing around, he was extremely meek and talked barely above a whisper whenever a girl was near. That is, except for their tomboy friend Robyn. Robyn was "one of the guys" in a similar manner to how Helga was in elementary school. The fact that he could actually speak to Robyn was probably one of the reasons Marco had a huge crush on her.

Arnold and Marco stared at the store, at the barely-dressed mannequin behind Hank, and then at each other. Both thought the same thing, "Hank should have brought Robyn to do this."

"Don't be such pussies," Hank yelled as he started to stomp over to them – mostly for show as opposed to actual anger. After some pushing, shoving, pulling, and bartering, Hank finally convinced his friends to join him in the store so he wouldn't "look like some perv."

Once inside, Arnold and Marco escorted Hank to a saleswoman and then bee-lined towards the make-up and perfume section by the registers; avoiding the undergarments as much as possible. While they waited, Marco dug his toe in to the floor and fussed with the purple, striped, plush cats the store sold. Arnold started off smelling the different perfumes. After a few minutes his nose got clogged with sensory overload and he aimlessly scanned the store for Hank.

The tall teen was surprisingly hard to find, but as Arnold searched the floor something else caught his eye. In the negligee department, a seamstress dummy resting on top of a circular rack called out to him like a siren song, and Arnold mindlessly answered its call.

Dangling off of the beige felt body was a delicate pink gown with spaghetti-straps holding it up by the mannequin's shoulders. About a third of the way up the garment rested a thick red stripe. It seemed out of place, yet at the same time naturally present. He couldn't put his finger on how, but this nightie looked familiar and welcoming to him.

"Adorable, isn't it?" A chirpy little voice cut in to Arnold's thoughts, breaking him from the trance the garment trapped him in. A petite woman who looked like she was only a few years older than him stood just behind his shoulder. She had completely crept up on him.

Realizing he was caught staring at the negligee, Arnold started blushing. The salesgirl pretended not to notice, although Arnold found it hard to believe since he felt like he could fry bacon on his cheeks.

"It's part of our Retro-Girls collection," the cheerful woman said without skipping a beat. "We took all the hottest fashions over the past decade and redesigned them in to adorable little nighties, negligees, teddies, and other playful wear," she winked at Arnold and he blushed harder. He ran his hand through his hair and attempted to walk away.

"This particular outfit," she continued as she played with the negligee's skirt, "is a design from about nine years ago. It was designed off of the 'It Girl' – a rascally, pigtailed, terror with a horrible attitude. She was fantastic!"

Arnold stopped as soon as he heard the words "It Girl". He whipped back around and finally got a real good look at it. The garment that had called out to him was definitely the dress Helga used to wear all the time in elementary school. He hadn't seen it in years, so it was understandable that it didn't click right away.

As he again stared at the now-recognizable outfit, the seamstress dummy started morphing in his mind. Two beautifully sculpted legs grew from below it, the skirt of the negligee clinging delicately. Two slender and graceful arms budded from the dummy's shoulders, and one of the hands rested on the hipbone. Finally, a head with flowing blonde hair sprouted from the neck of the dummy. Helga was once again standing in her elementary-age dress, but she certainly didn't look nine anymore.

Arnold was knocked out of his fantasy this time by an abrupt tackle. Refocusing, Arnold looked over at Hank, lingerie for Beverly in hand. Marco soon shuffled over, staring at the floor most of the time. Once again caught staring at a nightie, Arnold blushed as Hank teased him for being a pervert. For a moment, Arnold debated if it were true. After all, he did fantasize about Helga in the outfit. He just blushed harder as Hank laughed and headed towards the register.

Funny that Arnold would stumble upon that outfit. And very odd that a lingerie company would design something off of a nine-year-old's school dress. He assumed it was because the girls that were obsessed with Helga's look back then would now be about the right age to want such a garment, and so Vanessa's Boudoir might as well bank on nostalgia. After all, Arnold would have gotten a kick out of a pair of sexy, satin boxers that looked like his old, blue, teddy-bear pajamas. With a shrug, Arnold chalked the whole thing up to a weird coincidence and wandered over to the registers with Marco.

* * *

The following Tuesday, Arnold walked in to the Middlerose high school with a very nervous Marco. After hitting up Vanessa's Boudoir, the guys started talking about prom and how Hank was the only one with a date. Arnold wasn't really interested in anyone and had to suffer through the boys playfully harassing him about being too chicken to ask anyone to the dance.

Which of course lead to Arnold switching gears by asking Marco why he hadn't asked Robyn to prom yet. After a lot of embarrassed excuses, Hank offered to help Marco out. Against Arnold's strong suggestions to ignore any love advice from Hank, Marco submitted to letting Hank mold him in to the perfect guy for Robyn. After all, Hank was the only one of them that had a girlfriend.

As Arnold predicted, the transformation ended in disaster. That Monday Hank convinced Marco to "peacock" for Robyn – making him look like a complete idiot. Hank had gathered up a bunch of his sister Annie's clothes and jewelry, and then convinced the petite Marco to wear them. Poor kid could barely sit in the tight jeans. Hank then foregone his own hedgehog look to use the rest of the gel to spike up Marco's insane locks; making the Puerto Rican look like an Anime character. The worst part was when Hank convinced Marco to speak in a Spanish accent, even though Marco's own parents didn't have a hint of one.

All the train wreck did was confuse Robyn and weirded her out. Devastating Marco in the process and fearing he would now never have a shot at the woman of his dreams. Arnold the Cupid decided to step in and help the heart-broken boy out.

Only a day after the embarrassing case of "peacocking" Marco was yet again attempting to ask Robyn to prom; this time with Arnold as his coach.

As is Arnold's way, Marco was brushed up to be a better version of himself. His hair was combed and tamed, his face was clean shaven, and he borrowed some of Arnold's clothes to look a touch more presentable.

Still shaken from the disaster of the day before, Marco was more nervous around Robyn than he'd ever been. Somehow, love triumphed and not only did he succeed in properly ask her to prom, but Robyn accepted with a bone-crushing hug. As she gripped him tight, Marco managed to sneak a thumbs-up to Arnold.

"So those crazy kids did finally hook up," Hank said with amazement as he walked up next to Arnold. "Now all we need is to find you a lady." Hank hooked his right arm around Arnold's shoulders, and used his left to playfully punch the odd-headed boy.

"I keep telling you," Arnold protested as he pushed Hank's arm off of him, "I don't need help finding a date. I'll just go stag." Arnold gave his friend a half-smile and an exasperated shake of his head.

"Oh, I forgot, you're Don Juan! You don't want to be tied down to just one lady," Hank replied.

"Oh yeah," Arnold made a show of rolling his eyes, "You sure have me pegged."

"Well, what else am I to think, man? You're never with a girl for more than a date or two."

Arnold wasn't paying attention to Hank's commentary of his love life. Just behind the basketball player was the school's main announcement bulletin board and a particular flyer had snagged his focus.

An open casting call for a summer production of Romeo and Juliet. Arnold had studied Shakespearian plays in school before, but there was just something about the flyer that called out to him. Almost like a word fused to the tip of his tongue, there was something there that his mind was trying to grab at, but Arnold just couldn't peg what it was.

A hand wove in front of Arnold's face. "Yo! Earth to Arnold! Ya listening?"

Arnold grimaced and batted Hank's hand away. "Ga! What?"

"What the hell are you looking at?" Hank turned towards the bulletin board and tried to decipher which flyer distracted the blonde boy.

"It's nothing, nevermind. Let's just get to class." Arnold started off.

"Oh hey!" Hank stayed at the bulletin board and called over his shoulder, "There's gonna be a production of Romeo and Juliet! Was that what zombified ya? You wanna be Romeo or something?"

Arnold stopped. How the hell did he figure out which flyer Arnold was looking at?

"Hey, yeah! Forget Don Juan! You wanna be Romeo!" Hank teased.

Arnold's mind raced. Something about Hank's suggestion of him playing Romeo clenched tightly around his heart. Why? Then Arnold remembered that he was called Romeo a few times before – by Gerald at Helga's Sweet Sixteen. He tried to brush that night out of his mind.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Arnold finally asked. "I never said anything about wanting to be either of them."

"Oh, sure," Hank nodded with a grin that implied he had Arnold completely figured out, "That's why you want to go stag, so you can meet your Juliet at the dance like in the play! Very crafty. Don't forget to spew some of that Shakespearian jibberjabber. Chicks eat that crap up! They definitely find it sexy for whatever reason."

Arnold was suddenly overcome with flashes of Mr. Hyunh dressed as Juliet while helping Arnold memorize his lines. Somehow, quoting Shakespeare didn't seem all that seductive when it came with a mental image of a middle-aged, Vietnamese man running around in drag.

"Hank, I don't want to be Romeo. So let's just drop it and head to class, okay?"

Hank shrugged but deserted the bulletin board. "What's wrong with being Romeo? You seemed fine with it while gloating about being the lead at your old school."

"I never gloated about anything," Arnold retorted.

"Yeah, whatever," Hank smirked and rolled his eyes. Arnold gave him a shove. "The whole thing still sounds absurd anyway," Hank continued, "Having fourth-graders perform a play like Romeo and Juliet. I mean, you must have edited out all the best parts of the damn thing."

"You know, I never really thought about it before. I guess Mr. Simmons really did have to edit out a lot of the play so it would more appropriate for us to perform."

"That sucks, but at the same time, I do feel a bit better. I was getting kinda skeeved out. Like, can you imagine nine-year-olds performing the wedding night scene? All sexed up? Scandalous, right?"

Arnold gave a soft laugh of agreement before remembering who he would have had to perform that wedding night scene with – Helga. He blushed at the thought.

An avalanche of memories about the play came careening down on him. He had nearly forgotten how he felt when he first saw Helga in her Juliet costume. It was backstage as they were all running around to take their places. When Helga rushed by him his heart fluttered. Back then he just excused it as stage freight kicking in.

It wasn't so hard to believe, Arnold had a horrible time once he was out on stage. The only reason the play was so successful was because Helga was amazingly believable as Juliet, and it made Arnold that much more believable as Romeo. It never occurred to Arnold back then that Helga was able to portray a love-struck teenager so well because she truly was in love. Everything Juliet was saying to Romeo, Helga was really saying to him.

Then, Arnold remembered the only kiss from the play that did make the cut. The crucial one. Juliet's suicide kiss. The then-inexplicably-long-and-passionate kiss. The kiss Arnold should have realized came not from Juliet, but from her unibrowed avatar. Arnold's first kiss. Arnold and Helga's first kiss.

"Arnold! Hey, Arnold!" Hank's voice cut in to Arnold's reminiscing. Arnold blushed harder as he was discovered daydreaming. "You sick pedo!" Hank continued, "You were actually imagining nine-year-olds performing a sex scene, weren't you?"

Arnold's eyes flew wide and shoved Hank, denying the claim. No matter how much Arnold attempted to tell Hank what he was truly thinking about, the basketball player joked that Arnold was a sick, twisted man and continued to their first class.

As the bell rang, Arnold caught one last glance at the bulletin board that held the casting call. Such an odd thing to remind him of Helga. What were the odds that he would have two reminders of her in just a few days' time? Instead of legitimately trying to figure out the math, Arnold shrugged and entered the classroom, debating if he really should try out as Romeo.

* * *

A week later, Arnold was lazily walking home from school. It was a beautiful spring day; mellow temperature with a light breeze and wisps of clouds scattered throughout the sky. As per usual, Arnold's mind was dancing around in the clouds, oblivious to the world surrounding him.

Until a female voice knocked him from his aviary perch with two simple words: "Geek Bait!"

Helga?

Arnold hadn't heard that insult in years, and the only one who ever said it was Helga. When did she get to Middlerose? What was she doing there? How did she find him?

Arnold whipped around in a frantic three-sixty. Where was she? Why couldn't he find her?

Suddenly, Arnold was transported back to elementary school. Helga G. Pataki was screaming the phrase as she shoved people out of her way. Arnold flinched and braced himself for Helga to push him, or for a bombardment of spitballs to come at him.

He didn't expect the glomp.

Robyn ran full-force in to a tackling hug as she finally reached Arnold. He was so stunned to be greeted by her instead of Helga that he didn't seem to notice she still had him in a bear hug and was currently dangling from his back.

As Marco, Hank and Beverly caught up; Arnold managed to stand upright again, placing Robyn's feet back on the sidewalk. She laughed and released her grip, instead grabbing his shoulders to help steady him.

"Hey," Marco waved a hand in front of Arnold's frozen face, "you there, man? You ok?"

Arnold blinked a few times, and continued his dazed search for Helga.

"I think you broke him." Hank cocked his head to the side and chuckled.

Robyn blushed, "My bad! I didn't mean to rattle ya so hard, Arnold."

"Have any of you seen a blonde girl our age with billy goat ears?" Arnold finally asked them. They all looked at each other with cocked heads and shrugs.

"How about 'Geek Bait'? Did any of you hear that? Did you see who said it? Where she is?"

Robyn started laughing. The others started smirking, confused as to what "Geek Bait" had to do with this strange blonde woman Arnold asked about. Eventually they laughed with Robyn. Arnold stared at them more befuddled than before.

"It figures you'd only catch the important part, Oblong Brain," Robyn laughed. It was no "Football Head", but Robyn was still just as crafty with finding a playful nickname to tease him about his unique head shape. "I called out your name," she continued, "Which I guess you didn't hear – and then asked if you wanted to come with us to Geek Bait."

Arnold's confusion grew more. He only heard the last part of a sentence? The voice was Robyn's, not Helga's? Why was he so positive that Helga was calling out an insult? Why did his mind go there?

Marco misread Arnold's source of confusion, "Come on, man! You know! Geek Bait? That new gamer's market that opened up on Bartlett Ave? It's Wednesday – new comic book day."

"Eh, I couldn't care less for the new comic books," Hank chimed in, "I'm tagging along to hit up the video games."

Robyn's eyes lit up. "A one-stop-shopping center for all your comic book, video game, trading card game, role-play game, and anime needs! Screw 'Geek Bait'! That place should be called 'Geek Nirvana'!"

Beverly chuckled as she finally added to the conversation, "I keep forgetting what nerds you guys really are!"

Marco smiled widely and wagged a finger at her – dating Robyn had finally given him more confidence around women. "Nuh, uh, uh," he reprimanded, "We are geeks, not nerds. There's a difference."

"Whatever," Beverly teased, "Point is, are you coming with, Arnold? Or are you leaving me alone with these," she paused and then emphasized the next word, "geeks?"

Arnold was still recovering from everything that just happened, so he smiled back and declined their offer. The guys playfully called him a loser as the gang headed off to the shopping center. Arnold absentmindedly waved goodbye, desperately attempting to recollect his thoughts after the whole encounter scattered them so thoroughly.

Why did his mind bring Helga back to the forefront like that? Why was he thinking of her again? For that matter, why is it that he had so many reminders of Helga in such a small time span?

Arnold didn't recall how he got home that day.

* * *

Heavy bass filled the room as the music drowned nearly any chance of conversation. The teens flooded the dance floor and screamed over the already deafening music. Everyone knew that their ears would be ringing and they wouldn't be able to talk until noon the next day. No one cared.

It was the Saturday after Arnold thought he heard Helga calling out her famous insult, and it was finally Prom. Sure, it was a great party, the music was upbeat, the food was better than expected, and it was fun to hang out with the whole grade one last time before graduation next month. Arnold even enjoyed breaking out a few new dance moves, but it just wasn't the same. No school dance ever felt the same. He didn't have Gerald as a wing-man to try to impress the "older señoritas." He didn't have Rhonda reluctantly admitting that he picked a good musician or threw an amazing party. He didn't have Eugene crashing in to the refreshment stand and proclaiming he was still okay even with the punch bowl on his head. Arnold didn't have – what? What was the last thing about PS118 that he missed when he moved to Middlerose? He wasn't quite sure what else always felt missing, but he felt that extra pinch in his chest when the slow songs started.

Arnold watched Hank lead Beverly out on to the floor, and then Marco shyly motion to Robyn – who would end up sprinting to the dance floor with Marco jogging behind her. As he watched his new best friends paired up he couldn't help but think of Gerald and Phoebe, and then wonder how their Prom went. Did Eugene and Sheena go together? Did Harold ask Patty to come home from college to go with him? Did Rhonda win Prom Queen?

A soft throat clearing bounced in to Arnold's ear. As he abruptly turned to the sound, he nearly knocked over Janalee, who was practically leaning on his shoulder so her cough could be heard over the rock ballad. She was a plain girl – not ugly, but not stunningly pretty either. Arnold figured she'd become beautiful once she grew out of the high school awkward stage. She might shock everyone at their reunion. But right now, she was just another girl who was destined to be pigeon-holed in to the dreaded "Friend Zone".

She had about as many curves as a broom handle, but the puffs of her prom dress did a decent job at hiding that fact. She bit her lip as she adjusted her glasses, and Arnold could see she had the bands on her braces changed to match the outfit. Her long blonde hair was curled in a French Twist updo with a few tresses framing her face in soft curls. Fused to the top of her head with about a full can of hairspray was a delicate, silver tiara.

There was something reminiscent about her. Arnold felt the same way the week before when he ran in to her. Literally. He was lazily walking home from school and didn't pay attention before turning a corner, causing him to slam in to Janalee. As they scurried to collect their belongings, Janalee's hair startled Arnold. It was half up in a set of pigtails. Aside from five-year-old girls, the only other time he saw that hair style was two years ago. On sixteen-year-old Helga.

Janalee shyly apologized for colliding with Arnold. He assured her it was fine, "used to happen all the time" he softly responded, lost in the words as they escaped. They got to talking as they wandered the streets. Being a bit of an outcast, Janalee didn't have a date to Prom and didn't want to end high school as "the loser who went to Prom alone." Arnold tried to comfort her by admitting going stag to Prom. When she sadly replied it wasn't the same thing as a girl going alone Arnold hopped on to his white horse and offered to take her.

He had only meant it as a simple case of escorting each other. She would avoid the stigma of coming alone, and he could finally get Hank off his back about not having a date. Arnold even felt he made the "just as friends" arrangement very clear over the past week. Yet, Janalee was still hanging on to Arnold's arm half way through the night.

He was perfectly fine with the six of them all dancing in a group as the club mixes blared through the speakers. It was when they all coupled off for the slow dances that Arnold awkwardly stood on the edge of the dance floor with Janalee dreamily sighing on his arm.

"Oh, Arnold!" she squeaked, "I love this song! Can't we please dance?" With a forced tug, Janalee pulled him the remaining four steps off the carpet and on to the crowded wooden floor. Arnold held Janalee at arms' length as if they were still in middle school. His attention was scattered between Janalee, Hank, Marco, and the rest of his classmates as Arnold scanned the room. Janalee's attention was always chained to Arnold.

The evening progressed, and Janalee attempted to coax more slow dances out of Arnold. He kept informing her that it wasn't really his thing, but humored her regardless. He had promised to take her to prom so she wouldn't look like a loser to their classmates, and he reasoned not having her be a wallflower during slow dances was part of that pact.

"You sure you're having fun, Arnold?" Marco asked when the ladies all hurried off to the bathroom together.

"I don't really see why everyone makes such a big deal about it, but yeah, I'm having a good time," he replied with a smile. After a quick pause he continued, "Why? Do I not look like it?"

Marco and Hank exchanged glances. "Honestly?" Marco shrugged, "You seem a bit distant tonight. I mean, you seem to have fun with us out on the dance floor, but you also seem elsewhere."

"Especially with Lee," Hank chimed in, "Can you be any colder to that poor girl? What's the point in asking her to Prom if you weren't going to enjoy it?"

Arnold blushed, "I felt bad for Janalee. No one should go unasked to their senior prom. I just didn't realize she'd want to slow dance so frequently."

"Maybe your chivalry backfired and now she's crushing on ya!" Hank nudged Arnold.

His eyes widened and he scratched the back of his head. How had he not realized that? Thinking back at the evening it was almost painfully obvious that she liked him-liked him. Arnold figured his dense days of not realizing girls were crushing on him were in his past. He was sure he wouldn't be surprised by another girl liking him, not after the love confession Helga gave at the FTi building.

Helga.

Her name rang through his head, accompanied by the soft, slow sound of a three-piece jazz band. Arnold pictured her standing in front of the band, with her hair in soft waves, elbow-long dress gloves, and a flowing purple gown. Then he pictured himself standing in the back of the speakeasy they'd be performing in. Helga.

"Hey, Arnold!" Janalee again interrupted Arnold's thoughts. She bounced up to him like a six-year-old waiting to show off something she was proud of. Robyn and Beverly followed a little behind as if they were the parents of Janalee's six-year-old persona. The girls giggled and talked between themselves as Janalee grabbed Arnold's arm and started to again tug him to the dance floor.

Then another voice cut through Arnold's ears. The sultry, silky, alto voice of a jazz singer Arnold knew all too well. A chill that was simultaneously cold and hot ran through Arnold as his heart knotted. The jazz song that was playing through his head when he thought of Helga wasn't really playing in his head. It was the song Janalee wanted to dance to. It was the song Forever by 1940s singer Ella Holiday. It was a song Arnold loved dearly. It was the song he danced with Helga to on her rooftop.

He hadn't heard it since.

"Now the moon is overhead, but dawn's approaching fast," Ella's silky voice softly swooned. The saxophone snuck in the gentle melody. The piano danced notes under Ella's. The drum delicately tapped the rhythm. Arnold's heart lodged behind his tongue.

How? How did this song start playing? Why would the DJ pick this song? Who in high school would request jazz?

Zapped from his zombie-state, Arnold shot a look at the gleeful and blissfully ignorant Janalee. "Did you request this song?" he asked once he reminded his voice how to work.

"Do you like it? The girls told me you like jazz and I figured that was the reason you didn't want to dance before. Because there were no jazz songs! So I went to the DJ when we got back and I gave him this request." She smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Too stunned to fight, Arnold allowed her arms to drape across his shoulders, and his own arms to lie against his side with his hands mindlessly placed on her waist. She nuzzled her head against his chest, before backing up and trying to again catch his gaze.

Surrounding him was Ella's voice continuing, "I melt with every soft touch. Can't we forget goodbyes? Forever, oh forever."

"How?" Arnold's eyes darted as he scanned Janalee's face, his mind racing, "How did you know about this song?"

Janalee moved further away from Arnold, a bit shocked at his panicked expression, "I'm not really sure I know what you're talking about. Are you alright?"

This was wrong. There was no way he was listening to this song again. He made sure to never listen to it again after he broke things off with Helga that second time. No one else really knew this song. No one plays the classics anymore. Even he almost forgot about this song. There was no way he was dancing to it at his prom.

"Janalee," he struggled to keep his voice calm to not scare his date, "why did you pick this specific song?"

"I," she finally broke her gaze, looking nervously as they continued swaying to the song, "I didn't pick this particular song. I don't know any jazz songs by name." With a hurt pout and large eyes she looked back up at Arnold, "I just wanted a song you'd want to slow dance to, so I asked the DJ to play a slow jazz song. He's the one who chose it. Arnold, what's wrong?"

"Never let go. Don't make me leave. Allow me to stay right here." The lyrics flooded Arnold's head. He spun Janalee so he could have a better angle on the DJ performing for their prom. He was older, bald, and looked more like a nightclub bouncer. No, Arnold didn't recognize him. There was no way that man knew of Arnold, Hillwood, or a rooftop dance in the moonlight. It was a coincidence. All coincidence.

Just like the lingerie based on Helga's old elementary outfit. Just like the Romeo and Juliet casting call. Just like hearing Robyn say "geek bait" and thinking it was Helga. Just like running in to Janalee the same way he used to collide with Helga.

Janalee.

She was again smiling and enjoying her dance with Arnold's auto-pilot as his muscles remembered every move he made while dancing with Helga to this song. The spins and gentle dips, though not conscious maneuvers of Arnold, seemed to assure Janalee that he was fine. She longingly looked back at him as he took her all in.

Arnold finally realized why she looked so familiar. It wasn't just the pigtailed hairstyle she had last week, it's the French Twist she wore now. Up, with curls surrounding her face and a silver tiara nestled in the mass of hair. He remembered where else he saw that style before; on Helga, nearly a decade ago, when she brought him, Gerald, and Phoebe to Chez Paris for their dinner – and ended up washing dishes to pay for their extravagant meal. It was as if he was dancing with Helga once again.

He nearly sang the closing lyrics to Janalee. The same ones he sang to Helga. His lungs quaked as his heart expanded to fill his throat. This wasn't right. He couldn't do this. He couldn't dance to this song with anyone other than Helga. He couldn't sing this song to anyone else. Janalee may have looked like her, but she wasn't. How could Arnold keep dancing? How could he have submitted to this last betrayal of his relationship with Helga? How could he break this last vow he made to her, even if Helga didn't know about it?

"Arnold? You look pale," Janalee stopped their dancing, releasing him from the song's spell. What was going on? Why was Helga popping up all the time? Why was she everywhere? Arnold struggled against his lungs, causing him to feel like Sisyphus forever pushing that boulder up the hill.

"Arnold?" Janalee looked scared as she rubbed his back, trying to prevent him from fully hyperventilating. She was Helga's doppelganger now, and Arnold couldn't be near her.

"I'm sorry," he jumped away from her, "I'm- I need to go." Leaving the poor stunned girl on the dance floor, Arnold rushed over to Marco. Grabbing the Puerto Rican's shoulders, Arnold nearly collapsed.

"Arnold? Man, are you alright?" Marco seemed as concerned as Janalee did a moment ago. Robyn's jaw dropped and scanned the room for Arnold's abandoned date.

"I-" Breathe, Arnold told himself, just breathe. "I can't be here anymore. Please, I know Hank and Beverly will be busy, so please take Janalee home for me?"

"Uh, sure. What the heck happened?"

Arnold shook his head and raced out of the room. He couldn't be in there any longer. He couldn't be with Janalee. He couldn't hear any more of that song. He couldn't think of Helga. He couldn't picture her at the PS118 prom. He couldn't wonder if she was with someone, or if she was sitting alone, or if she even went at all.

* * *

It was one o'clock in the morning and Arnold was still awake. He tossed on to his side and attempted to will the clock to speed up. If he wasn't going to get any sleep he might as well go ahead and get ready for school instead of flopping around in his bed for the next five hours. After a three minute long intense staring contest with the alarm clock, Arnold realized time wasn't going any faster.

With a sigh he rolled on to his back and stared at the ceiling, begging for sleep. Ever since Prom he barely managed even two hours every night. Finals were a couple weeks away and he was certain he wasn't going to retain anything he supposedly learned the past week.

When sleep failed him Saturday he blamed it on the panic attack at the Prom. When the Sandman again missed him on Sunday he assumed it was the guilt of abandoning Janalee. When sleep still eluded him even after bashfully apologizing to his neglected date, he caved in and assumed his insomnia was the result of the one thing that recently changed in his life. Helga.

As much as he tried to ignore it, Helga was popping up everywhere and he finally had to admit being rattled. Why was Helga following him everywhere all of the sudden? Why was he constantly reminded of her specifically? What was the reason for Helga haunting him out of nowhere? Most importantly, why had his feelings for her resurfaced?

By Wednesday Arnold couldn't take the stress anymore, and knew that none of his Middlerose friends would truly get how much all the Helga references were bothering him. He needed someone who knew Helga, who knew his relationship with her. He needed his best friend.

Gerald seemed thrilled at first when it came to talking. With their high school careers coming to a close neither of them had much time to talk since Easter. After a few minutes of pleasantries, Arnold dropped the bomb.

"I think I might be in love with Helga."

He was greeted with silence. Biting his lower lip, Arnold quickly explained, "I mean, I think I never stopped loving her. And now she's popping up everywhere."

Gerald immediately refuted Arnold's feelings by reminding him that it was Phoebe that had to pick up the pieces whenever Helga's heart was broken, and that it was Gerald that had to deal with the repercussions.

Arnold quickly argued back by rambling off all the instances he was reminded of Helga in the past two weeks; completely cutting Gerald off whenever the man attempted to throw in his two cents on the matter.

"This is all too much to be mere coincidences, am I right?" Arnold finished with a pleading tone. "There can only be two explanations. Fate is revealing her to me for some reason, or I'm still in love with her and can't get her out of my mind."

"Or," Gerald replied once Arnold allowed him to chime in, "you're just a raving lunatic."

Gerald again stated that Arnold was making too much of everything and to not overanalyze. He then gave rebuttal to all the supposed signs that Arnold had been getting recently, excusing most of them as Arnold's subconscious reminiscing about Hillwood now that his childhood was nearing its close. The more Arnold argued that he thought he was falling back in love with Helga – or worse yet, he never stopped – Gerald fought even harder to convince him that it was all in his head.

All the psychiatrics reeked more of Phoebe than Gerald, but Arnold figured it had rubbed off over the years they dated. Arnold was glad it did, because all the insight calmed him down and cleared his head. Or so he thought.

Arnold slept about four hours that night, before waking up in the middle of a dream. He didn't remember much about it, but he did recall seeing Helga's face yet again. She was even haunting his dreams now. He desperately wanted to just race back to Hillwood and find out his true feelings, but he knew Gerald was right. There would be no point going while the school year was still in session. First off, Miles and Stella would never go for it. Secondly, there was no way he could drop out. Finally, he was going to see Helga anyway at the Sunset Arms on Independence Day – Grandpa Phil was going to throw him a graduation party for all his Hillwood friends and the boarders to celebrate. Arnold could surely wait another month to see her.

He lay in bed and chanted that his feelings for Helga weren't real. The whole thing was just in his head. He was making too much of it all. He was afraid of commitment. He was afraid to go to college and be on his own. He missed his life in Hillwood. He was just thinking about PS118 a lot more because they were all about to graduate. Anything other than what Arnold felt was obvious; he was still in love with Helga G. Pataki.

The chants and the meditations didn't work. It was two days later and Arnold was still awake at ungodly hours. As he sprawled out across his bed he knew that he wouldn't be able to literally bore himself to sleep, and staring at the ceiling made the minutes seem to click by slower instead of faster.

He had already spent all of the previous night reviewing and re-writing his jumbled, half-asleep notes from class. He already re-organized his bedroom. He had even attempted to simply read his text books until he passed out. Nothing helped. If he was going to be awake, he was at least going to avoid boredom.

With a heavy sigh he pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. He stared at his room a moment; scanning for anything to keep him occupied. Finding nothing, he shrugged and waddled out the door. Checking that he wasn't waking his parents, Arnold crept in to the living room and turned on the TV. The blue glow of the screen remained the only light in the room as Arnold stretched across the couch.

He began to lazily click through the channels. Arnold stared at a drunken, half-naked man toting a shotgun as he threatened the authorities. It kept the teen a moment to pick up that he was watching _Police_ and quickly moved on. Late night talk show. Late night talk show. Another late night talk show. Cooking show. Poker tournament. Highlight reel of a decade-old basketball game. Shopping network? Nope, there was one thing Arnold knew for sure: Insomnia and shopping channels were a volatile mix. Old episode of _The Abdicator_. _Pop Daddy_ rerun. He wasn't really in the mood for action.

Then Arnold stumbled upon something no hormonal teenager could resist: beauties in swimsuits running in slow motion. He was never the largest fan of Babe Watch; the scripting was embarrassingly cheesy. Then again, the insomnia was due to Arnold not being able to shut his brain down at night, and watching such a brain numbing show could do the trick. With a shrug Arnold decided to let the hormones win the battle over the remote.

The plot was pathetic, the dialogue was a little time capsule of the 90s, and the shot emphasized the fact that the director was concentrating more on the Hotties in Hotpants than anything else. The show seemed to be doing exactly the job Arnold needed as his eyes finally grew heavy.

Then, about half way through the episode, Arnold bolted wide awake again. Off in the background was a kid splashing in the ocean. The lifeguards called attention to the drowning youth and gathered their gear. Then the shot focused on the distressed child. A little blonde boy with an odd-shaped head.

Arnold jumped off the couch as he pressed his nose and hands against the TV screen. It was the oddest feeling to see his nine-year-old self aired on cable television. Sure, he watched when the episode premiered, but it was still odd for him to look back and see himself as a child without it being a home movie. Odder still to see himself drowning, even if he was only acting.

Then came the shot of the lifeguards running to his aide, all slow motion with the women's long hair flowing behind them. Arnold was carried out of the water by the male lead, assisted by one of the female cast mates. Another brunette cast mate kneeled beside nine-year-old Arnold and pretended to give him mouth-to-mouth.

Arnold remembered that woman. About twenty, beautiful chocolate-brown hair in a ponytail, soft skin. He remembered his heart race as her lips touched his. She looked so hot, and she was so sweet to him when they weren't filming. He admittedly had a little bit of a crush on her for the next couple months.

Something else stirred inside Arnold as he watched the scene. Not only memories of the actors he was able to work beside, but also of the one person that never made it to the final cut of the episode.

Helga.

She originally was one of the lifeguards to save Arnold – stated as a "junior lifeguard". However, when she pushed the brunette actress out of the way so she could perform the fake mouth-to-mouth with Arnold – and then held it for easily as long as the awkward Romeo and Juliet kiss, the director called her a camera-hog and reset the scene. When Helga again attempted to be the one to place her lips on Arnold's the director had to literally pull Helga off set. Without realizing Helga's true feelings, Arnold had just thought she wanted the camera-time (most likely to upstage Olga finally), and so he felt bad when they replaced the "junior lifeguard" part with one of the regular actors. Helga had helped Arnold get rid of that con artist Summer, as well as helped him win the sandcastle contest. Filming the walk-on role without her didn't seem fair, but causing everyone to redo the same scene because Helga wouldn't stick to the script seemed equally unfair. Plus, Arnold was tired of losing his breath to Helga's overextended kisses.

None of that mattered nine years later. Arnold was twice as old and infinitely more aware of Helga's feelings and true intentions for the stolen kisses. Even without Helga being in the final edit of the episode, just remembering that she was supposed to be there was enough. Arnold could feel her mouth press hard against his. He could hear the director continually shouting "cut" without Helga removing herself from Arnold's lips. He could taste the salt water on her and feel her warm skin against his. He could feel his breath leave him.

Then he realized that last part was less because he was reminiscing and more because that reminiscing caused him to forget how to inhale. The screen continued to flicker an inch from his face, but Arnold wasn't watching the episode anymore. He could barely even hear it over his own heart beating incessantly in his ears. Each pump of his heart echoed loudly in his head.

Abruptly, Arnold pushed the power button on the TV, blinking out all color and light in the room. Pushing himself away from the entertainment stand, Arnold fell in to a seated position and stared at nothing. His mind raced and he struggled to get air to expand his lungs. Arnold panted and let out weak whimpers as his mind raced more than it had all week.

There she was again! She didn't even need to appear this time. All he had to do was see himself half-a-lifetime ago and she burst back to the forefront. How could she be there again? Didn't Gerald reassure him that these weren't signs? That Destiny or Fate or whatever had nothing to do with these reminders? But, what could possibly be the likelihood that he'd not only stumble upon a show he hadn't watched in nearly a decade, but also stumble upon that particular episode?

With all the questions racing through Arnold's mind there was one thing he was certain. He wasn't getting any sleep that evening.

* * *

Over the weekend Arnold only finally found sleep again because of exhaustion. It wasn't peaceful, and he was terrorized with a multitude of dreams featuring Helga – none he remembered, but every single one woke him. She haunted his thoughts and the evenings were draining, but at least sleep finally came, even if he was now terrified of it.

"It's all just in your head," he told himself as he got ready for school, "Don't worry about her." At first he attempted to tell himself to forget Helga completely, but when it was evident that she would stubbornly linger he succumbed to his fate and attempted to live with it instead.

"Just a few more weeks, and then I'll be out of Middlerose, back in Hillwood, and eventually in Tuckerton for college. Maybe everything will be back to normal once I'm out of here. Maybe when I finally see her again and sort this all out." It took nearly everything Arnold had to push Helga to the side of his mind; always in his peripheral, but at least out of the way enough for him to concentrate.

The upcoming week would be the last learning he'd ever do in high school, as well as massive reviews of everything he'd need for the finals. Then, the following week held the finals themselves. Even if he was doing well enough to not have to worry about them, he still preferred ending high school with a high GPA.

"Alright, everyone line up! Boys in one row, girls in another!" Coach Aggie MacNeille, the gym teacher, barked out orders as the students poured out of the locker rooms.

Arnold was grateful for gym class. All the physical activity, the need to pay attention to avoid a ball to the head, and all the students talking amongst themselves was a perfect environment to forget Helga in, even if it was only for an hour.

"Okay, class," Coach walked the lines like a sergeant inspecting her troops. "Since this is the last week you are with me we're gonna have some fun." The strong woman smirked and nodded as the class erupted in to cheers.

"Alright, that's enough," she waved them quiet. "You will still have to do some work. This week, we're going back to your sophomore classes and finishing up learning ballroom and Latin dance forms."

There was a mixed response from the class.

"Today we will start with the Tango. Tomorrow is a refresher on the Waltz and more focus on the Viennese styling. Wednesday will be the Fox Trot and Charleston. Thursday will be Two-step and other country dances such as the Boot Scoot n Boogy. Finally, if you take the rest of this week seriously, Friday can be a fun day where you can learn whatever dancing you want. Bunny Hop, Break Dancing, The Robot, the Jewish Hora. Whatever you want."

The class was again in high spirits and concentrated on their last week of Phys-Ed. Coach MacNeille demonstrated some of the moves for the men first. Pointing out the differences between the more sultry and seductive regular tango, and the more relaxed and playful Argentine Tango. She then demonstrated some of the female moves for each style of tango. The class all practiced separately for the first half of the class. Once the coach was satisfied that they learned enough individually, she told them to again line up in their segregated columns.

She then started pairing students up so that they could practice the dance moves together. Some students groaned about their partners, others bashfully paired up.

"Arnold Shortman and Heidi Porthan," Coach ordered before moving on to the next couple.

Heidi blushed a little before walking over to Arnold. Coach MacNeille had left the sultry tango music playing so the couples could start working right away, and Heidi made a show of walking over to the beat of the music.

"Well, what do we have here?" she asked with a fake Spanish accent as she twirled in to Arnold's arms, forcing the shy boy to catch her. Continuing to use the music as her backdrop, Heidi then brushed Arnold's cheek with her palm before spinning back out of his arms and holding out her hand. "Come on, Arnoldo, let's cut a rug."

Pins shot through Arnold's spine, causing a spasm that forced Arnold to bolt perfectly straight. His eyes widened as his air ran away from him.

No, he must have been hearing things, like when Robyn commented about the comic book store.

Heidi tilted her head slightly and waved the fingers on her still outstretched hand, attempting to draw Arnold's attention to her awaiting digits. She cleared her throat and cooed with a slightly irritated sing-song in her voice, "Hello? Any day now."

Convinced that his mind was again attempting to trick him, Arnold obediently took Heidi's hand with a faint blush across his face.

With a bite of her lower lip, Heidi pressed herself against Arnold and forcefully placed his free hand on the small of her back. "Let's see your moves," she purred in his ear, using the fake Spanish accent again.

Arnold's chest tightened and he could feel every rushed pump of his heart. He struggled to not choke on his saliva as he fought to swallow. Averting his eyes away from his partner, he started their graceful strut around the gym.

"Dip me," Heidi whispered as they neared the coach.

Arnold's eyes darted between his partner and teacher before again struggling to swallow. With a faint nod he dipped Heidi. He didn't put the effort to dip her terribly far, but she made a display of it by giggling and arching her back so her head could hang lower.

Arnold felt his grip on her loosening and quickly yanked her upright before he dropped her.

"Hey! Not so rough!" Heidi barked.

The burning spasm again shot through his back and his heart began to tense. Something about Heidi's words hit him just as hard as before. Is it possible that he was still hearing things?

She tugged on his arm, attempting to get him to start dancing again. "What gives? Come on, we need to keep dancing here!"

Arnold stared blankly at her as he tried to sort out what it was about her that got him so worked up.

Heidi's face softened as she gave a tiny giggle, "Are you embarrassed about the dip? It's alright, I know I'm in good hands with you, Señor Arnoldo." She batted her eyes and again pressed against him.

In good hands? Arnoldo? Could he possibly still be mishearing things?

"You- you called me Arnoldo?" Arnold's voice was whispy as his chest burned.

"Um, yeah. Ya know, like the Spanish version of Arnold? It's called being witty." Heidi looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow and crooked grin.

"Only one person ever called me that," he remembered aloud.

"Oh-kay," Heidi moved away from him slightly, but still kept her hold.

"Only one," Arnold again murmured. His eyes briefly lost focus as he felt faint. Suddenly, nausea slapped him around until a slight migraine pulsated at his temples.

"So now there's two. What's the big deal?"

Instantly disgusted with himself, Arnold abruptly broke away from Heidi. With a quick snap of his wrists he got her to release her grip and he stumbled a couple of steps back.

Embarrassed, Heidi stood in shock for a brief moment before attempting to recatch Arnold's gaze. "Arnold? Hey, Arnold, you okay?"

Arnold lazily looked up at her, his eyes still not focusing properly. A chill skipped across his arms and chest. Heidi had a little curlicue nose, blue eyes, and had her blonde hair tucked behind her shoulders in two, low-hanging pigtails. And now she was calling him Arnoldo? They were tangoing? A rough dip? Safety in Arnold's hands? What on Earth was going on?

"Coach MacNeille!" Heidi waved the teacher over, "Arnold's not looking too hot over here!"

"_Let's cut a rug_," the phrase hung in the air around Arnold. His mind wasn't messing with him before. She said it. Heidi must have said it earlier.

Let's cut a rug.

The phrase pulsated through his brain. It started out in Heidi's voice with her fake Spanish accent, but then Helga's little nine-year-old voice pierced through. Fourth grade. The April Fools dance at the Hillwood YMAA. Helga pretending to be blind for her prank on Arnold. The entire tango routine between him and Helga played out.

"Keep dancing, everyone. I'll check on him," Coach MacNeille's voice barely reached Arnold's ears, regardless of her yelling at the class.

Helga. In that drab, brown dress and sunglasses. They were dancing across the shortening floor as Gerald opened up the pool below. All Arnold needed to do was keep Helga distracted. He easily accomplished the task by holding her close, dipping her, and whipping her around in their tango.

"He looks so pale! What happened?" Heidi's voice was starting to sound panicked.

"Arnold, can you hear me?" The coach's voice was slowly becoming clearer. Arnold mindlessly raised his head to answer his teacher, but his eyes still had no focal point.

"_Not so rough_," Heidi's voice exploded in Arnold's head as he recalled their display. "_Arnold, you're being kinda rough_," Helga's critique echoed Heidi's.

MacNeille walked Arnold over to the benches and sat him down, again yelling for the class to ignore them and keep dancing.

"_It's alright, I know I'm in good hands with you_," Heidi had said. Arnold's own words now haunted him, "_Don't worry my poor blind friend. You're in good hands_."

April Fools. Helga playing blind. Their tango. Arnold felt like he was going to throw up.

"Shortman," the gym teacher's voice cut through Arnold's thoughts. He was grateful for the brief interruption. He wanted to thank her, but his head was too heavy to match her gaze.

"Arnold," the coach again probed, "Do you think you can walk to the nurse's office?"

Nurse? Arnold neglected to respond as he was struck by flashes of his childhood-self standing outside the nurse's office with his April Fools prank still in his hand; nervously awaiting to see if Helga would be alright.

"Arnold!" MacNeille's voice was sharp as she sternly shook his shoulders.

Briefly snapped back to reality, Arnold breathed out that he could indeed walk. The coach instructed Heidi to escort him to make sure he made it to the nurse's office alright, and then turned around to again shout for the rest of the class to get back to dancing.

The entire walk to the nurse's Heidi rambled on about how sorry she was if she had upset him, and how she hoped he would be alright.

Arnold barely paid her any attention. His mind was too preoccupied.

Heidi had called him Señor Arnoldo. No one else was talking with a fake accent. Why did she have to? She wore her hair in pigtails. None of the other girls did, so why did she have to? There were so many dance styles to learn, why did they have to study Tango?

Gym class was supposed to be Arnold's break from Helga! His sanctuary from the insanity. Why did she have to come up again? Why couldn't she leave him alone for even an hour? What did she want of him? What did the Universe want of him?

As he spent the remainder of the class period lying on a cot in the nurse's office, he plotted how to get out of the Waltz lesson the next day.

* * *

The next few weeks dragged on forever, and yet ran by in a blur. Gym was Arnold's last class of the day, and so he muttered something about dehydration and possible food poisoning to the nurse. He spent the rest of the period lying on that cot before Hank drove him home. Giving the same excuse to his friends and parents, he was able to stay home the next day "for precaution" and he didn't have to answer a million questions about what happened.

Arnold attempted to use his day off to catch up on all the lost sleep, and he managed to do just that for an hour or so. Most of the day, however, was spent sorting out everything about Helga. He tried to convince himself that Gerald was right, and all his feelings for Helga weren't real. They sure felt real though, and Arnold's head hurt whenever he tried figuring things out.

Again putting Helga safely in his mind's peripheral, Arnold finished up the week and enjoyed learning the Bunny Hop and Pop-n-Locking in Friday's gym class. He could have done without the kick line though.

On the other hand, Finals Week was exceptionally hard. All that quiet. The sound of birds and pencil scratches on paper were the only sounds to distract him. The unoccupied time to just daydream. Arnold hated that he had to spend the entire period in the classroom, even if he finished his final early. It gave him time to think, and it was the last pastime he wanted to participate in.

Then there were those classes where he actually wished for the periods to be longer. As the week progressed, Helga – as per usual – shoved her way through to the center of his mind. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything besides her and the fact that he was seeing her in a month; causing him to work on the exams right up until the bell.

Miles and Stella attempted to help as best they could. They cheered Arnold on, told him they knew he would do well, reminded him that Purdy University had already accepted him, lent him one of the pendants the Greeneyed People had gifted them, and even gave him a bunch of inspirational cards to keep in his wallet.

The only issue was that every time Arnold went to fish for one of the inspirational cards to keep him going, he then had to fight an urge to look at his picture of Helga.

He had taken the picture on her sixteenth birthday, and put it in his wallet the next day. When Arnold had to go home to Middlerose he couldn't keep the picture in the first slot of the pocket-album anymore. It just didn't feel right after breaking her heart a second time. Yet he also couldn't bear to remove her picture entirely. She was moved to the center of the album. He only had three other pictures in it, so he never got far enough in to see her again. After a while he had forgotten her picture was even tucked away in his wallet. Lately, though, he was acutely aware of that fact, and his chest tightened whenever he fetched something from his billfold. It was as if her photo was calling out for him to look upon it again.

By the end of the week he couldn't resist her siren call any longer. Before each exam started, he'd sit outside the classroom and stare at her picture. The inspirational cards his parents gave him would be scattered around his feet, but the only thing that would sooth his mind was her smile. There was something about moving her from his mind to the physical plane that helped calm him enough to actually concentrate on the exam. It was like that off-camera look was Helga encouraging him to do well. After school let out each day he reflected upon the implications – making him more confused than ever – but during the actual exams, none of it mattered.

The following week the teachers were all grading the senior-class finals, giving the eldest teens the week off. Arnold tried to fill the time with as much socializing as possible, anything to again push Helga away.

The more he thought about his resurfacing feelings for her, the more concerned he was about the repercussions. He already held her heart. Twice. He already broke her. Twice. He had hurt more than just Helga each time.

The first time he broke Helga's heart she took it out on poor Brainy – breaking his nose. He heard from Stinky that after their second break up Helga moped and sulked for weeks. Phoebe and Gerald were caught in the crossfire. Who knew how many more people his relationship affected? For someone who prided himself in helping people, he sure caused a great deal of pain.

Concerned about his realization, Arnold spent the week asking his friends and parents if he truly was a good person. Could a good person cause so much pain? Could a good person do so without even realizing it? How could he possibly be selfish enough to attempt a third try with Helga if another failing would again cause so much trouble for everyone? What if third time wasn't the charm? Would he be willing to risk it, knowing how much hurt would grow from it?

No matter how many times his loved ones reinforced that he truly was a great guy, no matter how much concern they had about him asking such a question, no matter how many times he read someone writing "I'm so glad we became friends" or "I'm a better person in knowing you" in his yearbook, Arnold was never convinced.

If he truly was who he thought he was, if he sincerely tried his best to not hurt anyone, how could he have hurt so many in the past? If he wasn't selfish, why was he attempting to confess his love for Helga, even when Gerald told him it would be best for everyone if Arnold just moved on? If he always does what's best for everyone, at least as much as he believed he did, why did he have all this guilt about Helga bubbling over in his stomach? Did he truly do what was best for her? If he could find the faith to believe in virtually everyone, why couldn't he believe in Helga and their relationship? If he truly loved her as much as he thought, how could he have ever hurt her? Let alone hurt her twice?

Arnold spent the week before graduation staring at Helga's picture before bed. He never understood why, especially since doing so tore him up. Her sweet smile was no longer soothing like it was before his finals. Now it seemed mocking. The torch had been passed. Helga's mask was now his. How could he truly believe he was the man he showed the world? How could he possibly be that man when the proof shone through that smile?

"You're not this kind, selfless gentleman," the picture-Helga seemed to tease, "You can't possibly care what's best for someone, or care who you hurt. How can you be any of these things and still break my heart!"

Even shoved back in his wallet, Arnold could almost hear Helga's voice chanting "liar!"

The insomnia came back full-force. The nights were filled with Helga's mocking voice in his head, and his sobs of apology. Was she right? Was everything that defined him just lies? Were all the reminders of her truly hauntings? Were they there to torture him like a tell-tale heart? Was it guilt and not love that had been tormenting him over the past month?

Maybe he didn't need to confess love to Helga. Maybe he needed to just confess. To apologize. How could he sincerely think he had broken up with her for the Greater Good? How did it help them at all? All it brought were a few dates through high school and a failed excursion to Prom. Who truly benefitted from that? Him?

Had he secretly broken up with Helga for his own gain? Was it all a lie to make him feel better while he flitted around with other women?

No! This wasn't right! He was in love with Helga! It wasn't guilt! He wasn't a bad person! He was sincere and honest! It wasn't lies! It couldn't have been lies!

"I still wouldn't date anyone else!" Helga had told him as they broke up. He was trying to get her to fill the void with guys that were still in Hillwood, and she told him that she would stay single if she couldn't be with him.

What if she stayed single this whole time? Did it mean he had a third try to get it right? Or was he just feeling guilty for forcing her to be single this whole time? Did he break her heart for nothing?

"She's terribly forlorn with melancholy," Stinky had told him. What if breaking up with Helga actually broke her?

"Helga G. Pataki is fine, over you, and confessing isn't going to end well at all." Gerald gave the warning during their last talk. Maybe Gerald was right. Maybe she wasn't broken after all. Arnold wanted to be comforted with that thought, but at the same time, he wanted to be her brave rescuer.

What was wrong with him? How could he possibly wish that Helga was broken and alone, just so he could be her shining prince? Maybe he was selfish. He wasn't sure what to believe anymore. What has Helga doing to him?

Why was all of this cropping up now? What Arnold did when he was thirteen, what he repeated when he was sixteen, they were both in the past. He couldn't change either of those events. He couldn't change what happened because of it. He made mistakes, and he had to live with them.

More importantly, he had to get past them. If Helga could move on, why couldn't he?

Helga's accusatory voice echoed through him, "You promised you wouldn't do this again!"

Her allegation during their last break up. Her judgment on his actions. Her plea for the hurt to stop.

"Confessing isn't going to end well at all," Gerald had told him. Maybe Helga's words were pleading for Arnold to comply. Maybe the memory was begging him to not repeat the past.

Arnold had to find a way to get over Helga and on with his life. He couldn't linger in this limbo. He had until his graduation party on Independence Day to figure out how to escape the past.

* * *

It was a Tuesday evening at the beginning of June. Arnold straightened his tie in the high school's bathroom, and smoothed out his navy blue robe. He paused for a moment to play with the tassel hanging by his ear before rejoining his excited classmates in the hall.

Arnold had been tormented by Helga for about six weeks. Something as simple as a retro-designed negligee; who knew it would catapult his mind in to this insanity? It didn't matter, though. Arnold would be in Hillwood in less than a month, he would see Helga again, and hopefully his living nightmare would finally end.

The teachers patrolled the crowded corridors, organizing the students by last name. The teens had spent the entire previous day practicing, but the excitement was getting the best of most of them. They didn't care about rows or alphabetical order, they just cared about the last time they would be walking through the building. There were even a few students that gave a mockingly tearful goodbye to their locker. As Arnold was laughing at his fellow graduates he got playfully tackled from behind.

"Geez, Robyn! Stop doing that! You broke him the last time, remember?" Hank chuckled as he ran up beside Arnold.

"Oh, yeah, I actually forgot," Robyn shrugged, "Did I break you this time too, Arnold?"

Arnold scrunched up his nose as he smiled. Had he been younger, he might have gone ahead and stuck his tongue out too.

"What's with the outfits?" Arnold pointed to Robyn and Hank switching caps.

"They're idiots, that's what," Beverly sauntered up and kissed Hank as he scooped her in his arms.

"Come on, I thought it was clever," Hank responded.

"It's stupid that the girls are in these yellow caps and gowns that look like they're made out of picnic tablecloths, especially when the boys are in the cool navy blue color," Robyn explained, "So what's wrong with at least switching the caps around? I'm still stuck in this god awful yellow, but at least with Hank's cap I have both school colors on."

"Makes sense to me, sweetie," Marco chimed in as he jogged up to the group, "Too bad the teachers are gonna flip."

"I don't see why, we're showing the most school spirit here!" Robyn huffed.

They chatted a bit more about the ceremony, about how Hank and Robyn are going to get in trouble about the cap thing, about how Beverly refused to switch with Marco because her cap was already tightly secured to her head, and about their summer plans. Every time someone attempted to switch the conversation to Arnold's mini panic attacks the past month, he expertly directed it back to graduation and their plans.

About ten minutes before Commencement started, a teacher came through to channel the group of friends in to the two rows for walking in to the ceremony. Hank and Robyn were threatened with not being able to participate in graduation if they didn't switch their caps back, so they grudgingly did.

Anticipation built as the students were led to the doors outside the auditorium. As the music started, and the first students marched in to the room, a thick murmur of excitement mixed with the speechless silence. In about three hours they would forever leave Middlerose High.

As much as the speakers tried, none of the students cared about the speeches. The closest anyone got to paying attention was when the class president reminisced about their past years together; of class pranks and class trips, of crazy teachers, of insane projects that they all hated, of parties that the parents should have never known about, and of the trophies they had won.

Then the valedictorian went on forever about their possible futures beyond the Middlerose walls. The principal spoke about the good they each brought to the student body and how much they'd be missed. The vice principal gave his speech about potential and how they should each reach to fulfill it completely.

Then the superintendent - a woman that no one had ever met - started her speech about becoming better citizens as they continue to grow into adulthood. That was when the graduating class seriously started getting restless.

Rebecca Scholarck sat next to Arnold. She was the type that didn't like participating in school activities such as pep-rallies, sporting events, or assemblies. She drew Arnold's attention as she heavily sighed and grumbled.

Each graduate had the night's program sitting on their seat as they came in. It listed every name in the graduating class and all the speeches that were being given. It also contained an insert with the lyrics to the school's Alma Mater. Rebecca was in the middle of ripping off the bottom portion of her insert, making it a perfectly square piece of paper.

After dropping the discarded section of the insert on to the stage, she folded the remaining square piece in to a triangle, and then another. Opening the square again, she refolded along the crease lines her previous folds created. Flipping her origami project, she then folded her now smaller square in on itself in the same manner.

After two more quick folds, Rebecca tucked her fingers in to the cubbies now formed in the paper. Moving two of her fingers up and down, the paper figure now talked like a puppet. Rebecca lazily leaned back and mocked the superintendent with her puppet as the woman continued her speech. Equally bored by the endless speeches, Arnold had to stifle his laughter as he watched Rebecca's paper puppet move in time with the superintendent's words.

When the last speech finally concluded, the principal walked back to the lectern and started the announcement of names. No longer having much to mock - but still bored - Rebecca mindlessly played with her paper toy. Alternating which fingers grouped together, she opened the toy horizontally and then vertically.

Arnold instantly silenced his chuckles as his eyes grew wide in disbelief. He hadn't seen the origami in years; he didn't realize what it was originally. But as Rebecca skillfully played with her toy her gothic black hair reminded Arnold of someone else he used to know.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd.

Rhonda and her stupid origami marriage predictor that she tortured Arnold with back in fourth grade. The more Arnold watched Rebecca playing, the more vividly he could see Rhonda tormenting him with the predictor's results.

Helga.

One hundred and ten times. Always Helga.

How? He had managed to go through the whole day so far without thinking about her. He was enjoying the time with his friends. Even when he started to space out during the speeches she was clear from his mind. He was sure he'd be able to go a full day without thinking of her once.

Yet, there she was. Every time Rebecca opened her origami toy there was Helga's name, written on every fold. Why was she so stubborn that she couldn't leave him alone for just one day? What on Earth could The Fates want with him that they shoved her at him so relentlessly?

Of all the reminders he had over the past two months, why the marriage predictor now?

Why? The Marriage? Predictor?

Soothing warmth filled Arnold and his panic left in a shaky exhale. The marriage predictor. He hadn't thought about it since he was a kid since Rhonda claimed none of the predictions were true.

Yet Gerald had told Arnold that Nadine was starting to seriously flirt with Peapod Kid – who again went by his real name of Xander. Plus Eugene and Sheena seemed to have gotten closer with age. Arnold was getting more and more sure that Rhonda's prediction of them getting married might come true after all.

One hundred and ten times.

He had taken the Origami Marriage Predictor test one hundred and ten times. Each time Rhonda's predictor came up as Helga G. Pataki. There must have been a reason for the consistencies. There was no way her name came up so frequently by chance.

And now Arnold was being bombarded by the Universe with reminders of Helga? As much as Arnold wanted to believe Gerald's theories, Arnold knew Fate had to have been stepping in.

There are no coincidences, only signs.

All the Helga reminders, seeing her in person within a month, and now a reminder of a marriage predictor that would only come up as Helga? There was no doubt left, Fate was revealing Helga to Arnold.

And the marriage predictor let Arnold know why.

He really had to have been dense to not see it before. Fate or Destiny or The Universe, whichever cosmic power it was; it wanted Arnold and Helga together. They were meant to be together.

Arnold's feelings for Helga had to have been true. Gerald must have been wrong. Third time must be the charm.

His heart started bungee-jumping from the top of his throat, yo-yoing in and out of his chest. He shuffled in his chair as the names felt like they were taking forever to call.

"Jamie Newhaucer," the principal called out.

Arnold was still in love with Helga. He knew that now. He felt nauseous with the realization of two more years lost due to his stupidity. It was bad enough it kept him until he was ten to realize he loved Helga back, but to wait until they were eighteen to finally start their lives together was pathetic when she had loved him since she was three.

"Hank O'Gradie." Arnold mindlessly clapped as his friend walked to receive his diploma.

Arnold felt like such a mook for breaking up with Helga again. He had never stopped loving her, and yet he spent two years pretending she didn't matter to him.

"Marco Perez." Arnold again instinctively cheered upon hearing his friend's name. He also silently begged that everyone just rush the principal for their diplomas so he could get out of the auditorium.

He had forced himself to move on, but to no avail. His heart never forgot Helga, and now there was nothing holding them back. Only his own stubbornness. They would each be going to college and he might lose her forever if he didn't win her back now. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't force Helga to wait any longer. Their lives needed to start, and they needed to start together.

"Rebecca Scholarck." Rebecca dropped the origami toy and stood to retrieve her diploma. Arnold quickly picked it off the stage and tucked it in his pocket. This simple paper was his catalyst, his motivation, his reminder of his next greatest task.

Arnold's determination to give up on his parents forced Fate to gift him Miles' journal, with a map tucked in the back. Without Fate stepping in, who knows if Arnold would have ever found his parents?

And just as Arnold was determined to give up on his relationship with Helga, Fate again stepped in. Not with a journal and a map, but with a simple piece of paper folded out of boredom. Arnold couldn't let it get thrown away.

"Arnold Shortman." Upon hearing his name, Arnold quickly walked up to receive his diploma. He held his head high and proud. To everyone who watched, Arnold was a college-bound man excited to finally finish High School. But Arnold's pride was brought on by so much more. It was brought on by his newfound purpose in life, his latest quest, and the realization that there was nothing but himself stopping him from completing it.

As the students' names continued to be called out, Arnold sat with his diploma in hand, and calculating his plan of action. When it came time to move his tassel to the opposite side of his cap, he did so not to symbolize his completion of school, but to symbolize the true start of his life. The start of the greatest task he'd ever have.

Win back Helga G. Pataki.

* * *

Arnold was fidgety during his celebratory dinner out with his parents. The excitement from his epiphany made it hard for him to stay in Middlerose. He needed out. So much so that he couldn't even appreciate his favorite restaurant. He needed to talk to Helga. He needed to see her in person. And he couldn't wait for his graduation party to do it.

Miles and Stella noticed how antsy Arnold was getting and asked him what was wrong. With an abrupt burst, Arnold spilled everything to his parents. Over dinner he rambled on about the Helga Hauntings and his confusion and his regrettable action of originally hiding it all from them. He then concluded with the events of that evening as he pulled Rebecca's origami out of his pocket.

"I," Arnold trailed the word off, trying to figure out the best way to break the news. "I need to talk to Helga. In person. As soon as possible. Please, please let me go to Hillwood now instead of next month!"

Arnold's parents exchanged quick glances before sorrowfully looking back at their love-struck son. They knew he needed this. They knew they shouldn't be selfish. They knew they'd have the summers over Arnold's college years. But they also already planned out everything for the week long RVing road trip leading up to the party in Hillwood. They wanted to give Arnold his wish for Graduation, but they really couldn't do anything to change their plans.

They explained the situation to Arnold, apologizing that they couldn't shift the trip forward – due to Stella's work – or cancel it, since they already paid for most of the trip. They also couldn't afford to pay for a plane ticket for Arnold after spending the money on the road trip.

With heavy hearts, they continued their meal and headed home. Arnold attempted multiple times to put on a brave face for his parents; to show them how much he appreciated everything they've done for him over the years and how much they were willing to do. He reassured them that he understood their decision and that it was unfair of him to force them to change their plans. Miles and Stella knew he was sincere in his understanding and gratitude, but his fidgeting proved that he wasn't truly having a good time that evening.

Once home, Arnold checked his bank account. He had been saving up for the RV trip, and was honestly looking forward to the cross-country adventure with his parents. He hated having to give it up, but he just couldn't bear to be away from Helga any longer. Waiting three weeks would be unbearable.

After three hours online Arnold gave up on air or train travel. There weren't any commuter trains that connected Middlerose to Hillwood, and flying would require at least two connecting flights. He'd still have to drive roughly an hour to get to the nearest train station or airport. Plus cross-country travel by either mode was right on the cusp of his financial ability. The only mode he could actually afford was bus fare, and that would only be possible with about seven transfers and a three day trip.

Arnold might as well drive himself. At least it would be as direct and as quick as possible. He sighed and pulled out his wallet. Resting his head in his hand, Arnold flipped to Helga's picture.

"I'm coming soon, I swear," he promised her, "I just don't know how." He put his wallet away and stumbled to his bed, attempting to sleep. He massaged his brain with thoughts of seeing her soon, of the fact that after two years three more weeks wouldn't feel so long, and of the wonderful trip his parents had planned.

He spent the next two hours tossing around in his bed, trying to coax himself to stay put for the rest of the month. He tried reminding himself that he couldn't afford the travel. The only way he could see Helga ahead of time was if he drove himself.

Arnold bolted upright. Drive himself! Why couldn't that be a plausible solution? Why was he so quick to dismiss it? With new resolution he sprinted to his closet to grab his duffle bag.

When someone realizes they are in love, they don't wait around to let the other person know! And Arnold certainly didn't want to confess his love to Helga over the phone. This was personal. This was intimate. This needed to be done in person and as soon as humanly possible.

She had waited long enough to hear those three words from Arnold. He couldn't force her to wait any longer. He couldn't wait any longer. Especially when he had the ability to get to her.

His heart racing, Arnold quickly packed his bag and wrote a note to his parents. He apologized for ruining their vacation, for cutting their summer together short, and for running away in the middle of the night, but he just couldn't wait any longer. He'd keep in touch so they knew he was alright.

He tossed his duffle bag in the back seat of his beaten up pick-up truck and said a little prayer. The truck was a Christmas gift after he got his license, but it was old when he got it, and it hadn't held up too well over the past two years. Still, Arnold kept it running best he could, and he hoped that meant it would survive a cross-country drive.

Arnold took a quick detour to his bank's ATM and took out as much as he could without completely emptying the account. Hoping to now have enough money to fund his journey, Arnold sat in his truck and stared at the highway.

"Wait for me, Helga. I'll be there soon."

****A/N: Whoo... what a ride, right? Thus ends the last of the flashback chapters. If you got confused with the order, this chapter brings us full circle back to the beginning of the first chapter of this story. The next chapter will therefore continue where the first chapter left off.**

**This chapter was appropriately named because it super haunted me until I got the blasted thing written! Chibi can vouch for me. The chapter is based on the song "Haunting Me" by Stabbing Westward. It was fun, but also annoyingly hard to convert the lyrics in to this prose! :P**

**An epic chapter (the longest thing I've ever written) deserves epic author's notes, so be sure to check out my blog for those. You can find it at:**

**www. The Rogues Scribe. Blogspot. com**

**But since I'm gonna try to kick in to gear for Script Frenzy, the extended A/N may not be up until May 2012.**

**Anyway, here's a rough outline of what will be discussed:  
****Vanessa's Boudoir  
****Description of Marco  
****Marco's female awkwardness  
****purple, striped, plush cats in Vanessa's Boudoir  
****Geek Bait  
****Bartlett Ave.  
****Janalee  
****Helga and "Dinner for Four"  
****Ella Holiday  
****The TV show_ Police_  
****Tuckerton  
****Aggie MacNeille  
****Dance in gym class  
****Heidi  
****Purdy University  
****Inspirational Cards during finals  
****Graduation cap and gowns  
****Peapod Kid being named Xander**

**So keep an eye out for all that! :D**

**Also, as I mentioned in my intro A/N, I essentially wrote 8 mini-chapters... so I decided that at some point in time I'll be extending each section in to an actual chapter and "Haunting Me" will become its own companion spin-off story! Get more details on all of this chaos surrounding Arnold! Boy did I torture him! :P**

**Thanks again for reading and I hope to update at least every other month from now on - if not every month (it depends on how strict Chibi is with me LOL)****


	8. Break Even

****A/N: SURPRISE! GUESS WHO'S NOT DEAD!? **

**Man, I haven't updated since April!? Really?! Well I had Script Fenzy in April, the Daily Challenges in July, the Halloween contest in October, NaNoWriMo in November, the craziness of the holidays in December, and the hecticness of moving in January. I blame May, June, August, and September on just laziness.**

**Point is I'm back now and my New Year's Resolution is to update this story every month (or close to it with Script Frenzy and NaNo) until it is finished – hopefully by the end of the year.**

**Anyway, I had the story half done back in like June, but because of above list of craziness it kept me until this month to get back to it. So thank you to ChibiSunnie for the push and encouragement to get back to writing. And thank you, readers, for faithfully waiting and returning to this story.**

**Without further ado…. The next chapter….****

**Break Even**

Helga shuffled uncomfortably, her eyes looking at everything in the room. Everything, but him. "I sort of, kind of, the thing is-"

Arnold was getting impatient. He had just run ten miles from his broken down truck in order to confess his love for Helga, and not only was she acting like the whole situation was an average occurrence, but she was also acting very secretive. Why couldn't she just answer Arnold's question of whom else was in the house? The voice didn't sound like Big Bob and it certainly wasn't Gerald. So what guy was in Helga's bedroom?

Arnold's anger with Helga's stalling started to twist his face in to a glare. Footsteps came closer down the hall and Helga clenched her eyes closed as she anxiously shouted, "I already have a boyfriend!"

The air left Arnold as quickly as if he was punched in the gut. He slumped down in Big Bob's recliner; now acutely aware of how much gravity was pulling on him. His eyes lost focus and his head began to spin. His eyes and mouth were gapingly wide as he attempted to choke down any oxygen his lungs could grasp.

Nothing. It was all for nothing. All the stress, all the insomnia, all the self-reflection, all the driving, all the running, all the anticipation. Absolutely nothing. His world had kept moving without him and he was stuck in the vacuum.

With a flinch frozen on her face, Helga slowly opened one eye at a time, ready to gage Arnold's reaction to her news. He watched her move in slow motion. The span of a simple minute stretched out for days.

Abruptly, time snapped back to normal, whiplashing Arnold back to his senses. With a broken voice he sheepishly asked, "Who?"

Helga attempted to answer the question with a drawn out "well," before her boyfriend did the answering for her.

The tall, lanky man walked in to the living room and wrapped an arm around Helga's waist, seemingly unaware of Arnold's presence. He had grown more attractive in the past two years, and certainly didn't resemble his socially awkward childhood self.

Arnold still recognized him instantly, and the shock that Helga had moved on doubled as he realized who she moved on with. A man Arnold would have thought she never would give the time of day. A man who had annoyed the daylights out of her; even when she was dating Arnold.

It couldn't be possible. There was no way he stole Helga away from Arnold!

Arnold choked on the name as it passed through his throat," Br-Brainy?"

"Arnold?" Brainy finally acknowledged the teen, "What are you doing here? Your party isn't until the fourth."

Arnold just stared back with blank eyes, "You're Helga's boyfriend?"

Brainy smiled at Helga and kissed her temple, "For two years now."

Arnold choked down his nausea. He needed out of the house. Now.

"I-" Two years. Arnold couldn't focus on anything else. "I need-" Brainy wasn't a "fling", he was a serious long-term boyfriend. Brainy.

After a few more moments of tripping over his tongue, Arnold finally pushed himself out of the recliner and rushed to the living room doorway. "I'm clearly interrupting. Don't mind me, I'll be on my way," he rambled as he passed by them.

"Arnold?" Helga's voice was filled with concern. Any other time it would bring Arnold a twinge of hope. It was a faint plea for him to sit and talk to her. Then they would be blissfully alone in the world. Just the two of them. However, this time it only felt like she was drowning him in her pity.

Without another word he found the strength to run again and he sprinted to the Sunset Arms.

* * *

"Hey, Shortman! I didn't hear your truck pull up. Did I forget to put in my hearing aids again?"

Arnold sighed his response as he closed the front door behind him. Phil finished putting his suspenders back on after yet another battle with raspberries and opened his arms to greet his grandson. Arnold brushed off the old man and instead headed up the stairs.

"Arnold? You alright?"

"My truck broke down on the highway about ten miles from the Hillwood exit," Arnold softly grumbled, "Do you mind driving out to grab my stuff? I'm too tired."

"Sure, Arnold," Phil replied, his eyebrows arched in concern. "Your room's all made up for you."

"Thanks, Grandpa."

Arnold slumped his way through the second floor of the boarding home, now relieved that no one was around to pick up his earlier phone calls; at least he was less likely to run in to anyone on his way to his bedroom.

As he grabbed the string to pull the stairs to his bedroom down his grandmother poked her head out of one of the rooms.

"Welcome home, Mr. President. How was your outing with Madame Eleanore?"

Arnold grumbled back a "not great" before heading up the stairs.

"Well, that's sad to hear." Gertie stood at the base of the stairs and watched Arnold slowly climb to his room. "You look so run down. What on earth happened? Are you alright?"

"Just-" Heartbroken? Crushed? Dumbfounded? Lost? A pathetic loser? "I'm tired, Grandma."

"Oh, well, alright then. You go rest up."

Arnold half-heartedly nodded as he closed the door behind him. The bedroom was exactly the same. The same blue wall paper with saucer-like shapes, the same retro carpet, and the same flip-out red couch. He hadn't lived in that room for five years and it still felt like home.

The thought was bittersweet. The more the room reminded him of the old days the more it reminded him that Helga was no longer his girlfriend. She was Brainy's.

Right on cue, Arnold's phone began to ring. Arnold lazily pulled it out of his back pocket.

Helga.

He couldn't talk to her. Not now. He had no clue what to say.

She tried twice more before calling the boarding house. When Phil came up the stairs to fetch him, Arnold pretended to be asleep already.

Helga didn't get the hint. She started bombarding his cell phone with text messages instead: Arnold, call me back; Arnold, are you alright; Arnold, I think we need to talk; Please call me; I know you're awake Football head; Stop being a baby and call me.

Arnold turned his phone off and heaved it across the room. He needed to forget Helga, even for a little while. Unfortunately, his brain didn't agree.

Thoughts of Helga happily hanging on Brainy's arm drifted through his head. As much as he tried to shake them out, the two would skip back through his mind.

Brainy.

Of all people, it had to have been Brainy? She hated him. He annoyed her to no end when they were children. Who would have guessed that the person that annoyed her so much as a child would be the one person she's so happy with now?

Then again, everyone probably thought the same thing about Arnold dating Helga – of all people.

Still, some of the biggest arguments Arnold used to have with Helga were over how horribly she treated Brainy. If it weren't for Brainy, Arnold may have never broken it off with her in the first place. And now he's the reason Arnold and Helga couldn't get back together.

It all centered around Brainy.

Arnold instantly felt guilty as he realized the resentment that was starting to build. None of this was Brainy's fault. The poor guy didn't mean to hurt anyone. In fact, he did everything he could to avoid hurting anyone. All those years that he watched Helga and Arnold happily together. He never once attempted to break them up. Not once.

Arnold was now fully aware of how Brainy must have felt. Silently dying inside knowing the woman he loved was in love with another man. It must have been Brainy's private hell to be in love with Helga about as long as she was in love with Arnold.

Arnold's heart collapsed a little. Helga was in love with Arnold, but not any longer. He had his chance with her – twice – and he blew it. This wasn't baseball. He didn't get a third chance to strike out.

He groaned at his stupidity as he flopped over, covering his head with his pillow. A moment later he heard tapping on his skylight. He moaned and clenched the pillow tighter around his ears. The tapping continued and grew louder. The more Arnold attempted to ignore it, the louder the tapping got.

Finally, Arnold tossed the pillow off him and glared up at the skylight.

And saw Helga.

"Get your boney ass up here and talk to me, Hair Boy!" She crossed her arms in front of her as she yelled through the glass.

Arnold didn't know how to feel. His heart fluttered at the sight of her, even when she was so clearly frustrated with him. At the same time, he wanted to forget she ever existed. He battled with the conflicting thoughts of following her up to the roof, and pretending he never saw her in the first place.

After a moment, Arnold found himself climbing up the ladder built in to his wall, pushing the glass pane open, and joining Helga on his roof.

Before he had a chance to stand up, she punched him in the shoulder. "That's for ignoring me!"

Arnold didn't look at her as he rubbed his shoulder and stood next to her, "Do you really blame me?"

Helga softened and with a motherly tone she replied, "We seriously do need to talk. You know that."

Arnold took a moment to let Helga's words sink in. He knew she was right, but he still didn't wish to talk about any of this. He should have just let things be, go on his cross-country trip with his parents, and enjoyed life without ever making a fool of himself.

"Arnold," she prodded.

He bit his lip. "What's left to talk about? I love you. You don't love me. End of story. I'd like to pretend this never happened now. Is that alright?"

"No. No it is not alright. It's far from alright. And the story is far from over!"

Arnold abruptly spun to face her, "Really? What else is there? Tell me what more we could possibly talk about. I poured my heart out and you didn't want any of it. This is worse than when Lila didn't return my feelings because this time I'm actually in love. I guess you didn't mean it when you said you'd wait for me."

"Don't!" Helga scowled as she leapt forward and started poking him in the chest, "Don't you dare spit my words back at me like that! You don't have a goddamn right!"

Arnold smacked Helga's hand away and screamed, "I have every right!"

"Arnold?" Gertie's voice called out for her grandson, "Arnold, are you alright up there?"

The two teens froze. After taking a second to calm down, Arnold grabbed Helga's arm and dragged her to the fire escape.

"We can't do this here. I don't want them involved in this. Not yet anyway."

Helga silently complied as she choked her anger down and climbed on to the fire escape.

"I'm not leaving until we've actually talked," she defiantly stood next to the ladder.

Gertie's voice got closer, "Arnold?"

Arnold turned towards his grandmother's voice and whipped back towards Helga, "We can't do this now."

"I can wait," Helga climbed back on to the roof and sat down.

"Helga!"

She shrugged in response.

"Fine, I'll come too."

"I knew you'd see it my way, Football Head." Helga stood up and brushed off her pants.

"Alright, get going," Arnold tried pulling her back on to the fire escape.

She rolled out of his grip and waved towards the ladder, "You go first."

With a bull-like snort, Arnold threw his arms in the air, "Alright. Let me just let my grandma know that I'm fine. I'll be right back."

"I'll be here waiting, Arnoldo."

Arnold climbed back in to his room and answered his grandmother's knock on his door. He gave a half-hearted excuse for the yelling and reassured her that he would be alright. He then asked that he'd be left alone for the rest of the night; he desperately needed sleep after the long drive.

Not fully convinced that he was okay, Gertie reluctantly agreed to not disturb him and climbed back down the stairs.

After mentally apologizing to his grandmother for being so rude, Arnold climbed back on to the roof. Helga sat on the fire escape, tapping her foot as she waited.

They silently traveled down to the sidewalk and headed for the treehouse in Mighty Pete – the oldest tree left standing in Hillwood. Arnold figured it would be a nice, private spot for them to talk – or, rather, argue.

When they arrived Arnold was relieved to find out he was right about the location. The teenagers left the beloved treehouse alone for the younger generation to enjoy, and all the children that would be playing in it were already at home and asleep.

Once the two of them were settled on the porch that wrapped around the treehouse, Helga finally broke their silence.

"You realize the whole situation with Isaac is complicated, right?"

"Isaac?" Arnold cocked an eyebrow. How many guys was Helga with?

"Brainy," she clarified, "I call him by his middle name. It's just more natural to- it's less awkward when- it's sexier than- I just call him Isaac now, alright?"

They sat in more awkward silence, neither looking at each other. Helga fidgeted and tapped her fingers on the porch banister.

"Arnold, talk to me," she demanded.

"I will once you tell me what you want me to say. I told you I loved you, that I never stopped no matter how much I pretended I did, and you tell me that you're with someone else even after screaming at me that you'll never date anyone other than me."

"Are we back to this bull shit again? I told you once. Don't make me tell you one more time! You have no right to shove that stuff in my face!"

"Why?" Arnold stood up so he towered over her, "Because I broke your heart? Is that why? Because I regret doing so? Because that decision tormented me? Because I cancelled the road trip I was going to take with my parents so I could instead spend two days on the road, have my truck break down, and run ten miles just to tell you I screwed up? Are those all reasons why I have no right to remind you that you said you'd wait?"

Helga stood up to meet Arnold in the eye, "Don't try to guilt trip me, Bucko. It's not gonna work."

"Don't you understand that I'm allowed to be upset?" Arnold stepped closer so his nose nearly met Helga's, "That I don't have to be Mr. Silver-Lining all the time? That I want to be as strong as Brainy was, but I just don't have the ability to be alright with you being happy when that means you're with someone else?"

He sighed as he slumped backwards, stepping back out of Helga's personal space. "I envy the fact that he could do that." He looked away from Helga and rubbed his arm, "I envy the fact that as long as you were happy he was too. I wish I could do that. Don't you understand how much I wish I could do that? It would make this whole situation so much simpler."

"But I can't." He looked back at his lost love and bit the inside of his cheeks as he tried to steady his voice, "I can't do it. I'm crushed and broken and desperate to have you back because without you I'm empty. Without you I have no one to love or to love me back!" Arnold fought back the tears threatening to spill over.

"And what do you think happened when you dumped me?" Helga's voice was soft and quaking. "Did you think I had a harem of guys lined up waiting to take your place? You left me without any kind of love. Twice!" Helga turned away from Arnold, hugging herself.

Arnold glared at her, "Oh, that's such bull and you know it!"

Shocked, Helga spun back around, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"You were swarmed by guys at your birthday party. Nearly every single male at that party was hanging all over you! Don't even try to pretend you didn't notice any of them. For crying out loud, they were the reason I broke up with you in the first place. You could have any of those guys instead of a long distance relationship. So, don't you dare give me this 'I was all alone' act!"

"Are you kidding me right now?" Helga flared her arms about. Her teeth clenched as she spit out, "Don't be Mr. High-and-Mighty to me! Mr. Noble! First off, you may claim you broke up with me so I could move on, and yet here you are complaining that I did just that! Secondly, what gives you the right to tell me what I do and don't feel? Huh, Bucko? I was alone and don't you dare tell me otherwise! Sure, there were other guys vying for my attention, but none of them were you! I could never love them like I could love you!"

"Yeah? Well then what are you doing with Brainy, huh? Explain that to me!" Arnold's breath quaked as he tried to calm himself down.

Helga wanted to snap back at Arnold, but the thought of Brainy's love for her warmed her a little and grew a soft smile across her lips. "I honestly didn't know that Isaac still cared for me like that. Seems we are two peas in a pod. Just longing for someone we thought was beyond our reach. I knew we had a deeper connection when he did this thing in school where he wrote me a song and had these large signs confessing his love." She trailed off as her smile grew.

It sickened Arnold to see how much Helga's eyes lit up as she talked about Brainy's love confession. The bile built up until it exploded in uncalled for rage.

"So it was that easy to get over me, huh? A song and a few posters? Do you realize I tried dating seven other girls after we broke up? Do you realize that I tried to move on? That I tried to stop loving you? That I tried to forget about you? And I couldn't. I compared every girl to you – even if I didn't realize it. I spent the past two years just delaying the inevitable; ignoring the truth." He quickly grabbed a hold of Helga's shoulders, squeezing as tight as he could without hurting her, "I love you, Helga Geraldine Pataki and I always will. How can you possibly walk away from a love that strong? How can you move on from that? I know I sure as heck couldn't do it! So how is it that you moved on when I couldn't? How could you forget about me so easily? Did you even love me as much as you claimed?"

Arnold quickly released Helga as her hand flew up and slapped him across the cheek. Her eyes were wide in furry and her face twisted in anger. Arnold barely had a moment to break from the shock before she started pushing hard on his chest. Every stumble back he took, she took a step forward and shoved him again. "How dare you ask me that? How dare you even suggest such a thing? I died the day you dumped me! I was empty inside. I barely went through the motions of living. I had lost everything I held dear and it hurt like hell to still be so madly in love with you! I almost didn't give Isaac a chance because I was still in love with your idiotic football-shaped face! You shattered my world when you left and you almost didn't leave me enough pieces to glue back together!"

Arnold slammed against the banister as the wraparound porch sharply hooked to the right. Helga stopped her pursuit and glared at him. "Thank God Isaac didn't give up on me. Thank God he tried time and time again to woo me. And thank God I finally caved in and gave him a chance. He treats me infinitely better than you ever did, Hair Boy. And he'd never suggest such an imbecilic thing as me not truly loving you. Hell, my current friggen boyfriend knows how much I was insanely in love with you. It tears him apart each day knowing how much I cared for you. And you dare suggest otherwise!"

Helga and Arnold stood nearly nose to nose. Helga breathing anger across Arnold's face. Neither said anything as Helga tried to calm herself down.

After a couple minutes, Arnold broke the staring contest and shuffled past Helga, walking towards the treehouse ladder.

Avoiding any eye contact, Arnold spoke over his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Helga. I-" He paused until he reached the top rung of the ladder. "I really should head back home before anyone notices I'm gone."

Arnold climbed down the ladder as Helga ran over to the railing. She was still too shocked and frustrated to say anything at first, but as Arnold walked to the sidewalk he heard her scream behind him.

"Fine! Leave! You've gotten real good at that!"

Arnold wiped away his tears as he headed back to the boarding house. Somewhere close behind him he heard the crash of a ceramic mug shattering on the sidewalk, and he knew Helga threw it.

The walk home seemed three times as long as it normally did. Arnold tried to shoo thoughts of Helga away as he made his way back to the boarding house, up the fire escape, and back in his room through the skylight. He attempted to ignore the images he had of Helga and Brainy blissfully clinging to each other as he stripped for bed. As he plopped on to his bed he finally let the tears roll.

Helga was clearly happy with Brainy, and Arnold should be happy that she's so content. Especially since she finally had exactly what Arnold wished for her: a man who puts her first and loves her for who she is, not who she could become. When they broke up five years ago he wished for her to have a person who loved her more than he could. And he did so again just two years ago.

Arnold now truly understood "be careful what you wish for."

He focused on the city lights as they highlighted the passing clouds. He stared at the few brightest stars that he could see. He attempted to imagine the destination of the airplanes that flew overhead. No matter what he tried, Arnold's thoughts always came back to Helga.

He flopped around his bed he couldn't escape those images of Helga kissing Brainy, him holding her, them snuggling at the movies, Helga dressing up for him. The list went on.

All of those signs that he suffered through during the past two months. All those times he feared Helga being alone and broken; just waiting for him. All of those sleepless nights wondering what he should do. The torment was all his. Only his. The entire time Helga probably wasn't even giving him a second thought. She was probably snuggly tucked in bed and dreaming of her new beau.

Helga's last few months of high school were most likely her best memories of PS118. Classes were ending and she'd never have to deal with them or those teachers any longer. She'd no longer be in a district where everyone knows Olga and constantly compares Helga to her older sister. She must have gotten dressed up in a gorgeous gown in order to look amazing for Brainy as he took her to prom.

Prom. Arnold choked some bile back down in to his stomach. Not only didn't he enjoy his high school's last hurrah, but he ruined it for Janalee. He was so worried about Helga that he created a miserable night for everyone. Meanwhile, Helga was probably having the time of her life with Brainy. The thought of Helga gussied up and dancing with the lanky teen caused Arnold to gag again.

His breath shook as he attempted to calm himself. In a swift movement he sat on the edge of his bed and buried his knees between his legs; begging himself not to vomit.

Now what? He was stuck in this city for a month until his parents showed up for his party. He would have a month of these sleepless nights and awkward days. He wouldn't be able to talk to Helga or Brainy, but would he be able to avoid them for a month? And then what? Avoid them at his own party? Uninvite them? Pretend he was alright?

A month of Arnold reflecting on how he lost the best thing that had ever happened to him while Helga blissfully enjoyed being free of school. She'd be excitedly college bound – ready to feel what it was like to be in a place where no one even heard of Olga Pataki – and enjoying every moment leading up to her departure. Brainy probably had the whole summer planned out. They'll be hanging all over each other and all Arnold can do is watch.

With a whimper Arnold violently shook his head and flopped back on to his bed, burying his head under his pillow. Forget about her, he demanded to himself, she clearly did just that with you.

When the clock turned to two in the morning Arnold gave up. He stared at the slow drifting clouds, imagined them to be the floor of Heaven, and prayed.

"Lord," he softly murmured to himself, "I can't handle this pain anymore. I can't handle my resentment towards Brainy, and I can't handle my desire to hold Helga. Please, please can you help me?"

He paused as he wondered how he wanted God to help him. Did he want to get over Helga finally? Did he want to find a new love? Did he want to be content just knowing Helga was happy? Or did he want God to make it so Helga would come back to him?

* * *

"Oh! Morning, Arnold. Did you get enough rest last night?" Phil poked his head out from behind his paper as Arnold shuffled in to the kitchen.

Gertie, with a ten-gallon hat on and spurs on her shoes, gracefully flipped two hot pans, tossing the cooked pancakes high enough for her to have time to drop the one pan and catch the pancakes on a plate. "Set 'er down, Tex. I got eggs and flapjacks all set. Ya need as much energy as ya can get after that long cattle drive." She placed the plate of pancakes on the table and went back to the stove to get the scrambled eggs.

"That reminds me, Shortman, when I went to gather your stuff last night I also got someone to tow your truck to Vic and Morrie's garage. Oskar will vouch for those two, so that of course means we should probably find another place to get your truck fixed as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Grandpa." Arnold slumped down at the table and started putting together a plate.

"I told ya to put that lame buck down years ago. Get yourself a new colt." Gertie loaded Arnold's plate up with eggs before splitting the rest between her and Phil.

Arnold lazily poked at his food with his fork. "You're probably right, Grandma."

Gertie placed the empty egg pan in the sink, walked back to the table, twirled her chair around on one of its legs, and then straddled it with her arms resting across the back of the chair, "Doesn't do a cowboy good to have no appetite, Tex. What's eatin' ya? Ya found a snake in your bunk?" She tipped her cowboy hat back and stared her grandson down, "or are ya still upset about your meetin' with your gal yesterday?"

Arnold avoided eye contact as he poked some more at his food, turning the pancakes and eggs in to a massive mush on his plate, "Turns out she already has a boyfriend."

Gertie silently gasped and turned to Phil. He caught her gaze and put his paper down. "Sorry to hear that, Arnold," Phil scooched his chair closer to the depressed teen and patted his arm. "It's rough to be rejected. Your heart feels stomped on, torn right through your chest and shattered right in front of you. It's like a kick in the gut, isn't it? Can't breathe, can't eat, can't sleep, a constant pain in your chest."

"Grandpa!" Arnold shoved his chair away from the table and stood up.

"Oh, sorry, Shortman. So, what are you going to do?"

Arnold stormed over to the kitchen entrance. He abruptly stopped and rested his hand on the door frame, "I don't know."

Gertie gently stood up and walked over to Arnold, placing her hands on his shoulders and dropping the fake frontier accent. "Arnold, come back to the table. Eat some breakfast. Talk to us. You could always talk to us before."

Arnold turned and looked at the frail woman. At ninety the woman still had tons of spunk, but when she had these gentle moments of clarity Arnold couldn't help but notice her age. "I don't think talking will help at all this time."

"The pain will fade, Arnold," Gertie took his hand and lead him back to the table.

"In the meantime," Phil chimed in, "you can at least catch up with some of your old classmates while you're already here. I know Gerald would be thrilled to see you."

"Yeah, maybe," Arnold collapsed back in to his chair and stared disinterested at his food, "It's not like I can go anywhere anyway. I ditched my parents, spent all of my money, and killed my truck chasing after someone who didn't even want me."

"Oh, Arnold." Gertie's voice was soft and soothing, but he couldn't miss the pity that also coated his grandmother's words.

"It just kills me that I gave up so much for something that just blew up in my face." Arnold pushed his plate away from him, folded his arms on to the newly vacant space, and buried his head in his sleeves.

"You do realize that you've been an amazingly lucky guy your whole life," Phil commented. "You have been able to accomplish the near impossible; getting the Circle Theatre declared as a city landmark, having the whole city turn off their lights in order to see Sally's Comet as well as convincing everyone that there was an alien invasion! Then there's reuniting Mr. Hyunh with his daughter, saving the neighborhood, and finding your parents. Heck! You even got Suzie and Oskar back together. It was a stupid thing to do, but by George, you did it."

"Well then maybe my luck ran out," Arnold mumbled in to his arm, "Or worse, maybe Helga was my source of luck. Sure, I saved the Circle Theatre and got the city to turn off their lights. But the alien invasion thing, saving the neighborhood, and finding Mom and Dad were all only possible with Helga's help. I could never have accomplished any of that without her. I still don't really know how Mai found us, but I'm sure Helga had something to do with that too." He turned his head away from his grandparents and blankly stared at the refrigerator, "What if I can only do great things with her by my side? What if she's the best part about me?"

"Come on, Arnold," Gertie knelt next to the teen and cradled his head in her hands. "You are a fantastic boy. Everyone is so proud of you. You can do great things just being yourself. It's your determination that gets a job done, not luck. It's sweet to say a girl makes you better, but you're a good person all on your own."

"Am I?" Arnold pulled his head away from his grandmother's embrace and pushed the chair away from the table. "Would a good person break the heart of a fabulous girl not just once, but twice? Would he ruin another girl's prom by thinking about the first girl the entire time? Would he ditch his parents and the mildly-expensive trip they put a lot effort in to planning?"

"Arnold." Phil reached his hand out to comfort the boy, but the blonde pulled away.

"Maybe all of this pain is what I get for being such a jerk. Maybe it's karma for breaking Helga's heart twice. I just need to face the fact that I did this to myself. This whole thing is my fault. Helga with Brainy is my fault. If I wasn't such a jerk, if I wasn't so stubborn, if I wasn't so sure of myself, if I wasn't arrogant enough to believe I knew what was best; I would have never broken up with her and we'd still be together. I know we'd still be together if it weren't for my big, stupid, football head." Arnold choked down the knot in his throat; his eyes clouding over with tears, "This is my fault. I guess I deserve it."

Phil walked over to his grandson, "Now, now. You know it's not really anyone's fault." The old man looked up at the ceiling and stroked his chin, "Although you do bring up some valid points. I guess it is sorta your fault at least a little." Gertie cleared her throat and Phil refocused on Arnold. "Either way, you're not a bad person. You should know by now that you're a good kid. You become a bit of a rapscallion every once in a while, but you tend to do right at the end. Perhaps this whole thing is for the best. Now that your heart is completely shattered by this girl you can – very slowly – start to pick up the pieces and move on. You know, now that she's with that other guy and clearly doesn't want you."

Arnold whimpered and turned to leave the room. Gertie called out, "Well, maybe she will change her mind now that you'll be around."

Phil snapped his fingers and smiled at his wife with complete sincerity. "That's the attitude, Pookie, build the boy up with false hope! Kids need hope, even if it is the false kind." Gertie proudly smiled back as Phil turned back to Arnold, "Yeah, Romeo, perhaps you can win her back. And if not, it is a big city; maybe you'll meet a nicer girl out there. Plenty fish in the sea, you know."

Arnold leaned against the doorframe, "Well, maybe you're right, but could you really find someone to replace Grandma?"

Phil's back straightened as he whipped his head around. Gertie was trying to cheer up their grandson by starting up an old prairie song about love. Her ten-gallon hat was dipped low to shade her eyes and her voice was horribly off key, but still had a sweet charm to it.

"Well, your grandma's more of a sea monster than a fish," Phil scratched his chin, "But I guess you're right, Shortman, no one could really replace my Pookie." Under his breath he muttered, "Not that I'd say boo to Heddy Lamar trying."

Gertie strutted over to her husband and paused her song long enough to lean him down for a kiss on the temple, "Aww, no one would be able to replace you either, Slim." As Phil smiled down at his partner, she started up the next verse of her song and continued on her way towards Arnold.

"Pookie, that's not helping – unless you're trying to replace his heart break with the pain of your singing." Gertie responded to Phil's complaint with a simple grin and wink before continuing on; grabbing Arnold's shoulders and attempting to force him to sway with her.

Arnold looked past his grandmother and locked eyes with Phil. Desperation was plastered on his face, "If neither of you could replace the person you loved, how could I ever hope to find someone who could replace Helga?"

****A/N: This chapter was SOOOOOO tough to write! It just stalled in the middle. The chapter is based off of "Breakeven" by The Script. I was madly inspired when I heard the song – to the point where I purposely inserted this transition chapter from the flashback chapters to the rest of the story; just so I could have a chapter to go with this song. However, when I wrote the line about Helga throwing the cup the chapter felt finished even though I still had about half of the lyrics that I still needed to "translate" in to prose. Me and my stupid formatting locking me in. :P So I struggled through the second half. Thankfully, ChibiSunnie was there to help me through it and I'm proud of how it came out.**

**What do you guys think?**

**Also, in case you got lost, this chapter instantly follows the first one in chronological order. It is also based on the song "Breakeven" by The Script.********


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